Counting Down the Days
by Montana-Rosalie
Summary: Emma is a time-traveler. Killian is always waiting for her to return.
1. The Truth Comes Out

**Hello everybody, I'm back with a new story! Thank you for being patient until I was ready to show you what I've been doing for the past month; it's "The Time Traveler's Wife" AU, with a slight twist in which Emma is the one who disappears without rhyme or reason and finds herself stuck in the past or present for days on end. Those of you who read the book will be worried, but I assure you, this fic is going to have a happy ending. Enjoy, and you can expect an update every four days for the next few chapters (while I'm on vacation).  
**

* * *

 _April 23_ _rd_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma blinks a few times to clear her vision and sees the back alley behind her apartment building, crouching in the corner buck naked and shivering in the early morning chill.

The alley is not as smelly and dirty as some she'd been in recently, but Emma can't help grumbling and wishing that she had disappeared from her living room instead of here and sighs because it's been at least three days, judging by the newspapers caught on the edge of a Dumpster.

Her clothes are gone from the neat pile into which they have fallen once she was misplaced in both time and place, finding herself in the suburbs of Boston in 1997.

"Time-traveling blows", she says to nobody in particular and grabs a t-shirt somebody had thrown out, shivering as it slides down her body and preparing to stop breathing if it smells too fouly, but to her surprise, it smells like detergent and the ocean, reaches to about mid-thigh and all in all feels perfect on her frozen skin.

As she walks on tiptoes and tries not to step on anything too disgusting and/or sharp, Emma tries to come up with an excuse for her boss, hoping that he's going to buy the story of a sick aunt so she doesn't have to look for a new job.

Again.

The sky is going from pink to blue and Emma thanks her lucky stars it's early because she'd rather not meet any of her neighbors, although she's fairly certain most of them have already decided that she's not all there, including the incredibly hot mystery from 3B who has seen her coming home dressed in all kinds of weird assemblies in the month she'd lived here; if anything he always seems amused when they see each other in the hallway or the elevator, but there's a deep sadness in his blue eyes that gives her pause and always makes her feel a little thrown.

It would be easy to blame it on the fact that he's missing a hand, the sleeve of his leather jacket only just hiding his stump, but somehow Emma thinks it's not the reason his half-smiles never quite engage his eyes too.

For some unfathomable reason she often gets the feeling that it's somehow her fault, but she is too much of a mess to even try flirting with him or saying anything beyond the most courteous greetings they exchange upon seeing each other.

And speaking of the devil…

Emma realizes that her spare key for the building door is not in its usual place just as the said door opens and 3B steps outside, his eyes widening almost comically when he notices her busted lip.

It was a long, long week in 1997.

"Swan, are you alright?" He asks as if he cares, as if they are much more than just neighbors, as if he's got every right to address her by her last name.

"Just fine, Jones", she says curtly, showing him that he's not the only one who can read what it says on the mailbox.

"It's Killian", he tells her softly, and she thinks how one of these days she won't be affected by his British accent, so she just rolls her eyes and squeezes past him.

"Thanks for holding the door", she says curtly, abruptly realizing that he smells exactly the same as the shirt she's currently wearing does.

The one that she had supposed somebody had mistakenly thrown into the garbage.

"Always a pleasure, love", he replies and gives her another sad smile before he turns around and walks away, her eyes following him until he rounds the corner and disappears down the block.

It is entirely possible that he had left that shirt in the back alley on purpose, but Emma doesn't want to think about what that might mean right now, so she shakes her head and goes inside, breathing a sigh of relief when she finds her apartment key under the doormat.

She takes a long, hot shower, eats the first thing she encounters when she opens the fridge and collapses into bed, only just managing to burrow underneath a mountain of blankets and pillows before sleep overtakes her.

* * *

Emma wakes up around 6 p.m. feeling slightly better for having slept eleven hours, and she smiles wryly to herself when she realizes that she had put the shirt that might or might not have belonged to Killian Jones back on after taking her shower.

It turns out she'd been gone for five days instead of three like she had originally thought and sends Elsa a text letting her know that she's back and thanking her for covering for her at work.

 _The boss is pissed at us both_ , comes the reply and Emma thinks how she should really try to explain her time-traveling problem to at least her one and only friend in the world, but even though she's afraid that one day soon Elsa is just going to give up on her, that fear is not enough for her to actually say the words.

Besides, how would she even go about explaining that the reason for her sudden and often disappearances is genetic?

Or so she figures.

Sometimes she wonders if she might be magical, but then she decides that she can't be because if she were actually magical, she would have been able to control it by now, and not only she can't pick her destination or the year she misplaces into, she also can't stay rooted to the present once she starts feeling herself going.

What she has is a curse, and she wouldn't wish the same on her greatest enemy.

But, much like friends, she also doesn't have one of those.

Emma dials Elsa's number and goes about cleaning out her fridge, unearthing a can of Coke at the back and taking a big gulp before Elsa picks up.

"You're finally back", Elsa says, and she doesn't sound the least bit pissed off, which is nice, but Emma feels even more guilty precisely because of it.

"It's only been five days", she says with a sigh and carries the trash to the door so she doesn't forget it on the way out.

"Felt like longer."

"Library was busy?" Emma asks and finds her fingers practically itching to caress the spines of books she had last assembled on the shelves a week ago.

"Not more than usual, but the guy we usually order books from is sick so they sent somebody new and you know how Mr. Gold is… everything has to be just so otherwise he's not happy."

"Makes you wonder why he hasn't thrown me out already, doesn't it?" Emma says even though she knows her attempt at humor might turn into reality tomorrow morning when she finally shows up at work.

"You know why he hasn't and he won't", Elsa tells her and Emma frowns because she really doesn't know.

"He won't?"

"Nobody is better at handling his precious books than you are, not even Belle."

"If you say so", Emma shrugs and pulls on a pair of jeans, looking around her bedroom for a shirt to wear. "Wanna grab coffee?"

"Sure. Maybe this time you tell me what you've really been up to".

"See you at the mall in half an hour", Emma says noncommittally and hangs up just as Elsa gives her a long-suffering sigh.

Five minutes later Emma is dressed and ready to go, but she pauses in the doorway, debating on whether or not she should return the t-shirt she had worn to the trash or maybe even hang it on Jones' door, but she doesn't get a chance to decide because he appears out of nowhere and rises a quizzical eyebrow when she waves the frayed garment in the air.

"This yours?"

"Depends on a number of things", he says and she rolls her eyes because she's really not in the mood for other people's mysteries on top of her own.

"I found it in the back alley. Is it yours or not?"

"You can keep it if you want", he tells her and Emma presses her lips into a thin line because he's talking to her with such familiarity, and what's worse, she finds that she doesn't actually mind it.

"So it is yours."

"Not anymore", he tells her with a wink and inserts a key into his door, disappearing into his apartment before she can tell him that she doesn't want his t-shirt.

Especially because she's sure now that he had left it in the alley on purpose.

Emma throws the shirt back into her apartment, smirking when it lands on the couch and locking the door before she replaces the key under the doormat and goes to throw out the trash.

The only reason why anybody would leave her clothes would be if they knew about her misfortunate genes, and she hasn't even considered telling the truth since Neal.

Even thinking his name makes her ache, so Emma marches out on the main street and keeps marching until she outruns her thoughts and reaches the mall, her heart feeling less like an object being squeezed inside a vice and more like just a regular organ pumping blood through her body.

Elsa is already waiting when Emma enters Starbucks, wordlessly pointing at a mug of coffee across the table and eying Emma's lip before she takes a sip of her tea.

"Are you some kind of a secret agent?"

"Elsa, come on", Emma exclaims even though that would actually be the perfect cover for her absences; she might not be ready to tell Elsa the truth, but she doesn't want to lie to her either.

"You always show up banged up", Elsa tells her, and Emma has to concede because more often than not she does. "What am I supposed to think?"

"You could just not think about it", Emma suggests and Elsa gives her a sideways look, then focuses her attention on tracing the insignia on her cup.

"If there's anything I can do to help you, just know that I will."

"Thanks, but you're already doing everything you can", Emma says, trying to ignore the fact that Elsa could become her best friend if she only told her what was up. Or showed her.

As if on cue, she feels the odd feeling in the pit on her stomach that always precedes her travels, and she doesn't waste time cursing because she'd only been here for a day and she is so getting fired whenever she returns.

"I have to go", Emma says and hightails it to the closest bathroom, praying fervently that she doesn't disappear before she gets into a stall.

* * *

Some indeterminable time later Emma bangs her head on the knob as she stands up on wobbly legs, breathing a sigh of relief because it turns out she had actually managed to get into a stall and lock the door behind herself; the fact that it's still locked means that she hasn't been gone all that long and it's an even bigger blessing that her clothes are still on the floor where they must've fallen when she was displaced.

Or, rather, violently torn from her own time and thrown into the year of 2003.

The floor is reasonably clean for a mall bathroom, so Emma doesn't cringe too much as she puts her clothes back on, but when she comes out of the stall and finds Elsa leaning against the sink she actually feels relieved that she's going to have to explain everything now.

"Where do you go when you disappear?" Elsa asks as calmly as if she's asking about the weather and Emma leans against the sink next to her, shrugging before she tells her that it's different every time. "Where did you go just now?"

"June 2003", Emma says and chances a look at Elsa, who stares at her with her big, slightly frightened eyes.

"You travel in time?"

"Sadly, yes", Emma tells her and starts washing her hands just to give herself something to do.

"Were you always like this? Are you some kind of a superhero?"

Emma laughs, then covers her mouth with her hand because nothing about her situation is funny and Elsa is well aware of that, which feels nice compared to what Neal's reaction was supposed to be.

"It started when I hit puberty and no, I am not a superhero. I would have to be able to control it in order to use it for good, and I'm not."

"Sorry", Elsa says and Emma dries her hands because she doesn't want to see the way her friend must be looking at her now.

She is well aware that she's a freak, but knowing that doesn't make it easier to see the looks of distaste on other people's faces, much less somebody she had considered a good friend for quite some time now.

"You obviously don't want to talk about this, but if you change your mind, I'm here", Elsa says and nudges Emma's shoulder with hers, startling Emma enough to make her look up to find Elsa giving her an encouraging smile. "Our drinks are probably cold by now, but you can buy us another round."

And just like that, Elsa is in the know and slipping her arm under Emma's, leading her out of the bathroom and making her feel lighter than ever before.

Emma feels the need to tell Elsa everything bubbling inside her, but she still can't believe that Elsa is really okay with what she had witnessed today, so she decides to go easy on her.

She can explain everything gradually, and just the knowledge that Elsa will listen is enough to make Emma smile as her friend shares all the work gossip and they slowly sip their second round of drinks.

* * *

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	2. Let Me Help You

**Thank you so much for all your feedback (a hundred follows after just one chapter wow); it's always amazing to hear you like my chapters and look forward to more. Without further ado, on with the story.**

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 _May 2_ _nd_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian is coming home from work thinking how he's going to have a quiet night with a shot of rum or six, which is hopefully going to help him tune out all the thoughts about Emma that have been swirling through his mind since they were last together.

Or, rather, since she last knew who he is.

Nobody told him that loving a time-traveler would be a picnic, but he had expected it to be at least a little easier than it is; Killian has spent most days since she moved into an apartment right next to his holding himself back from knocking on her door and telling her everything, but he's damn tired of being alone.

Still, he had promised an older version of Emma that he would just let them happen, and there was enough panic in her green eyes to convince him that meddling would be a bad idea.

Killian runs his hand through his hair and kicks a rock in his path, then stops dead in his tracks and does a double take when he realizes that Emma is sitting on an old TV in the alley behind their building, her hair hiding her face as she inspects the sole of her foot.

She's wearing an old dressing gown she'd gotten God knows where and there is no force in the world that could make Killian mind his own business instead of seeing if he can be of some assistance.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Emma curses and pulls a shard of glass out of her foot, and Killian feels an actual physical pain in his heart when he realizes that there are tears rolling down her face, her fingers slick with her own blood.

"Swan", he says softly and her head shoots up, her eyes wide and desperate, her shoulders slumping even more when she realizes it's him.

"I'm fine", she says even though he didn't even plan on asking because it's clear that she's not alright.

Not even close.

"Let me help you", he says and goes down on one knee so that they eyes are level, but his Swan is nothing if not stubborn, her eyes locked on her foot as she looks for more shards to pluck out.

"I'm almost done."

"Swan, please. You can't do this here."

"Why do you care?" She asks him sharply and he can see the wall she had built around her heart as clearly as the brick surrounding them.

"I just do. Come on, up you get", he says and picks her up before she can protest, awkwardly hoisting her higher in his arms before he walks toward the mouth of the alley.

"This is completely unnecessary", Emma sniffles and lies her head on his shoulder; the sigh that escapes her can only be described as relieved.

Killian doesn't say anything to that because he's too busy trying to figure out how are they going to get the door of the building opened, but luckily one of their elderly neighbors is also going in, and they already have their key at the ready.

"Thank you", Killian says and carefully carries Emma through the doorway, shaking her a little when they reach her apartment because he's not supposed to know that she keeps a spare key under the doormat. "Stay awake just a bit longer, love."

"I'm awake", Emma murmurs but she's fading fast and Killian tries not to panic even though he knows that he won't be able to get to the key and unlock her door without having to put her down on her cut feet.

"We're going to my apartment", Killian announces and Emma doesn't object even when he throws her over his shoulder to free his hand so that he can unlock his door, which makes him wonder exactly how long has it been for her wherever she went and how many hours of sleep she had had in that time.

"Thank you", Emma mutters when he lies her down on his couch and he doesn't resist the urge to brush a lock of her tangled blonde hair away from her face, then covers her with a blanket and goes to get the first aid kit even though he'd rather just let her sleep.

He's going to do everything in his power to stop her cuts from getting infected because he knows how important it is for her to be able to move fast when she finds herself misplaced.

"Love? Wake up and drink this", Killian says and sits on the edge of the coffee table, holding out a glass of rum for Emma to take.

She wrinkles her nose and keeps her eyes closed.

"I want to sleep."

"In a minute", Killian assures her and smirks when she gives him a cross look and dutifully downs the rum.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's the right thing to do", Killian says and kneels next to the couch, frowning in concentration as he examines her cuts. "You seem to have gotten most of the glass out."

"Sure hope so. It hurt like a bitch", Emma tells him and grits her teeth when he dabs at the blood with a cotton pad liberally sprinkled with rum. "Ow."

"Apologies, lass. I'm doing my best to be gentle", he says and pulls another piece of glass from Emma's foot.

"What's your agenda?" Emma asks him and he keeps his eyes on her feet, afraid to look at her because he's pretty sure she'd be able to see all the affection he feels for her if he did.

"No agenda."

"Bullshit."

"If I believe in anything it's good form… I would never leave a lady in distress to fend for herself", Killian tells her and dabs at her cuts until he's sure her foot is clean. "Want to tell me how this happened?"

"I sleepwalked outside", Emma says dryly and Killian's mouth twitches even though he's fairly sure that the real story isn't funny at all.

"Give me a hand", Killian says and points at the gauze pad with his chin, Emma's fingers brushing against his when she takes over holding it in place; he tears open a packet of bandage and wraps the soft fabric around her foot, using his stump when needed and moving on to her other foot without pause because he suddenly feels incredibly self-conscious.

It makes no sense because he didn't even know her when he still had two hands, but he can feel her eyes lingering on the scarred end of his left arm and catches himself wishing he had either changed into a long-sleeved shirt or kept his leather jacket on.

"Car accident, in case you were wondering", he says and waves his stump in the air, but Emma just hisses when he dabs at her other sole.

The silence stretches and Killian feels as relieved as Emma must be when he's finally done cleaning her up, then goes into the kitchen and brings her a wet dish rag so that she can wipe the blood off her fingers.

"Can I go home now?" Emma asks him and he just shrugs because the last thing he wants is to hold her here against her will, even though he wouldn't object to her staying a while longer.

"If you wish to", Killian says and starts picking up the cotton pads he had haphazardly discarded on the coffee table in the past half hour.

"Hey", Emma says and wraps her fingers around his forearm, tugging gently until he looks down at her. "I know that there must be a reason why you did this for me, and whatever it is, I'm grateful."

"It was the right thing to do."

"So you've said. Still, thank you", Emma says and hastily releases his arm as if she only just realized that she'd been holding on for over a minute. "My name is Emma, by the way."

"You're welcome, Emma", Killian says and smiles to himself because he'd known her name for years, and it was much easier getting it out of her the first time around.

Well, the first time for him.

"Let me just put this away and I'll help you back to your place", Killian tells her and she nods, but by the time he washes his hand and returns, she's sleeping again, curled in on herself with the blanket hanging to the floor.

"Sweet dreams, love", Killian whispers and tucks the edge of the blanket around her, then settles into an armchair across from her and takes the sketch pad from underneath the coffee table, quickly losing himself in trying to get the lines of her face right on paper.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Emma asks and Killian looks up from the drawing he'd been perfecting for the past two hours, and he's unable to hold back a grin when he sees how much more mussed Emma's hair had gotten since she fell asleep.

"Killing time", he tells her and closes the sketch pad, leaving it on the armchair as he comes to stand next to the couch. "Feeling better?"

"Like I could eat a horse", Emma says with a cute yawn, then freezes when it occurs to her that she might be acting a bit too familiar.

If you asked Killian, he'd tell you that she was not being familiar enough.

"I'll see what I can rustle up."

"You've done enough", Emma says and slowly stands up, her teeth worrying her bottom lip and her body swaying because her feet are not ready to be walked on yet.

"I'll carry you to your apartment but first you have to tell me where do you keep a spare key."

"How do you know that I have one?" Emma asks him and drops back down on the couch, her nose wrinkling with distaste as she examines the dressing gown she's wearing.

Killian just looks at her patiently until she notices and tells him that the key is under the doormat.

"I hope you know that this has been a really strange day", Emma says when he scoops her up and carries her through his apartment and hers, straight into her bedroom where he sets her down on her bed.

"Even by your standards?" He asks before he can stop himself, leaving her sitting there with her mouth half-way opened as he pokes around her kitchen trying to find something edible.

"Hey, come back here!"

"As you wish, m'lady", he says as he hands her a box of crackers and a bottle of water.

"What do you mean, "even by my standards"?" Emma asks and Killian curses himself for being so bloody stupid.

The other Emma, the Emma this Emma has not yet grown into, had told him not to overwhelm her, but he figures that he can't turn this around short of lying to her, and that's something he never did and will never do.

"You're a smart lass, Emma. You know already what I mean, you just don't want to let yourself believe it", Killian tells her and takes her phone that he had picked up earlier from his pocket, holding it out like an olive branch. "You should call Elsa and tell her to come help you with the shower and bring you some food."

"We've met before", Emma says softly and he sets the phone on the bed next to her when she fails to take it from his hand.

"For me, yes. For you… not yet."

"And you know about… you know?"

"Time-traveling? Yes, I know", Killian says and starts walking backward because Emma looks like she's overwhelmed already.

It feels like an age since the last time he'd kissed her, but this Emma doesn't know him, and he's pretty sure she doesn't trust him either, despite what he had done for her today.

He can't really blame her for that because he wasn't particularly understanding when she first told him about time-traveling either.

"What am I to you, Killian?" She startles him with her question but he's not startled enough to actually answer it because doing so would be kind of like taking away her free will.

Killian wants her to choose him because she wants him, because she feels they are connected, not because he tells her that she already did.

"That is for me to know and you to figure out", he tells her and points at the wall behind her as he retreats out of her bedroom. "If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to bang on the wall."

Emma just looks at him as if she's trying to figure out all his secrets and he scratches behind his ear with a goofy smile, then waves and walks out of her apartment, gently pulling the door shut.

* * *

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	3. An Introduction

**Thank you so much for reading and leaving me such wonderful feedback; it means so much to me, and I hope this chapter clears up a few things.**

* * *

 _May 10_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma stands on the step ladder rearranging books on the Biography shelf and trying to figure out what to do with Killian. She knows that he had told her the truth when he said he knows her because her lie detector had stayed quiet, but she's still not sure if it's a good idea to let him into her life.

Or, rather, to let herself come into his and more than likely mess everything up.

"You've been down here for so long I came to look for discarded clothes", Elsa says from behind her and Emma wobbles a little on the ladder, then rights herself and holds her breath, hoping her body doesn't decide it's time to travel again; it seems that lately everything sets her off, from loud noises, bright sun when she wakes up in the morning and a clap of thunder to static on the radio and animated billboards.

Today must be her lucky day, because she remains where she is and carefully descends the ladder after putting the last book in its appropriate place.

"Still here", Emma says and Elsa gives her a relieved smile, then points over her shoulder, toward the stairs leading up into the main part of the library.

"There's somebody asking for your help."

"Why can't Belle get them the books they want?" Emma whines because she's really not in the mood for demanding patrons.

"He specifically asked for you", Elsa says with a wink and Emma stops walking because now she's sure she knows who is waiting for her upstairs.

"Dark hair, blue eyes, completely unfair jaw-line?" Emma asks and tries to ignore the flutter of excitement in her stomach because she hadn't seen Killian since the day he had patched her up and she's not at all opposed to the idea of seeing him again.

All she did since then was think about him and wonder if it's hard for him because they are apart; she was never anything to anybody, and it feels weird to know that she is something to a guy she barely knows.

"That would be him", Elsa says, then grabs Emma's arm and asks if he's the hot neighbor who carried her in and took care of her last time she had gotten hurt travelling.

"I never said he was hot", Emma objects and Elsa looks at her askance, then pushes her toward the stairs.

"He needs help finding a book on art and you owe him."

"But-"

"Go", Elsa says sternly and Emma stomps up the stairs even though she would've gone up even without Elsa's intervention.

After all, her older self trusts Killian, so what's the worst that can happen if she lets herself get to know him better?

Emma reties her ponytail and walks purposely to the front desk, looking around and finding Killian leaning against a nearby shelf with a book balanced on his forearm and a frown etched into his forehead.

"Hey", she greets him softly and he looks up with a bright smile that does an indescribable thing to her heart; he looks so happy to see her and Emma feels her lips twitch because he's already making it hard for her to remain professional.

"Hello, love. I trust you are well", he says and she wonders if he knows that he often sounds like heroes from romance novels Elsa likes to read.

"You did a good job patching me up", she tells him and glances at the cover of the book he's holding against his chest.

It doesn't really surprise her that he's into Tolstoy.

"Any time you need help, I'll be there", he says and it's clear that he means every word by the way he looks at her, as if she's all that matters to him and making sure she's okay is the first thing on his list of priorities.

"Elsa told me you wanted to find a book on art."

"Indeed I do."

"Art is kinda a wide subject. Anything in particular you're interested in?" Emma asks him and he chuckles, going from intense to playful in less time than it took her to blink.

"I'm helping my boss with an exhibit and she wanted some facts checked."

"She never heard of Google?" Emma asks, cringing because she feels irrationally annoyed with his boss even though she knows absolutely nothing about her aside from the fact that she's a woman.

"Regina is big on principle", Killian says and shrugs, then gives her a cheeky grin and admits that he prefers this approach too.

"What are we looking for, then?" Emma asks, ready to throw herself into research and telling Killian to leave his Russian on the counter before she leads him to the catalogue section.

"Impressionism in America. The more obscure artists we find, the better", Killian says and Emma nods to herself, then gets to work.

* * *

Three hours later Killian has filled ten pages with notes written in the most unintelligible handwriting Emma had ever seen and she had copied about fifty pages from various books for him even though it's not a part of her job description.

Killian had accepted her help graciously and kept rewarding her with cute little smiles that drew her in like a moth to the flame, and by closing time Emma is ready to let him show her why they are something to each other in her future.

"Would you like to have a drink with me, Swan?" Killian asks as she arranges the papers on the table and closes book after book, and she hesitates just for effect before she tells him that she just needs to return the books to their shelves before they can go. "I'll pay for the copies and wait for you by the front desk."

Elsa appears from between the bookshelves like a genie from the bottle and snatches up half the books so that Emma doesn't have to leave Killian waiting for too long, but something tells her that he is more than used to that.

"That was quick", he says when she joins him and proves her suspicion, making her feel an odd sense of melancholy and sadness because she can only guess what he'd been through because of her, and yet he's still here, still seeking her company.

"When did we first meet?" Emma asks him after they've exited the library and started walking through the park and he's quiet for so long that she's beginning to think he won't answer her at all.

"About seven years ago", he says and squints up at the canopy of trees above their heads, his eyes wrinkling at the corners in an unfairly attractive way.

"Before I moved to your building… How long were we apart?" Emma asks next, well aware of the fact that seeking out cold facts will tell her little about the nature of their relationship.

"Four years, six months and twenty days", Killian says and looks at her like a thirsty man would at an oasis in the desert, his shoulder brushing against hers as they walk.

"Did you miss me?" She whispers and he stops walking, shifts his book under his bad arm and slowly lifts his hand until it's cupping her cheek.

"More than you can possibly imagine", he tells her and brushes his thumb against her cheekbone, his eyes roaming over her face as if he means to memorize it in case she disappears again.

"Sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, love. Last time I saw you, you warned me that it would be some time before we met again, but you also told me that it would be better because you would be in your present, not past or future."

"Is it better?" Emma only finds her voice when he lets go of her and they resume walking, but she can still feel the imprint of his finger on her skin, warming her and making her feel even more tangled up in him.

"When I first saw you walking toward me in the hallway, it was so unexpected that I didn't say anything, but when you just walked by I realized that you didn't know me yet, and I remembered how you told me that I should be patient", Killian says and Emma can't help admire his stoicism; he was always so polite and respectful with her even though it must've been so hard for him not to try and chat her up.

They reach a bar and sit outside, watching the setting sun paint the sky orange, but Emma finds Killian's profile much more interesting and catches herself wishing she could uncover all his secrets tonight, know him as well as he must know her.

"That sunset would look good on canvas."

"Do you just work at the gallery or do paint too?" Emma asks and a shadow passes over Killian's face before he puts on a smile and tells her that he's only doing drawings these days. "But you used to paint?"

"A long time ago", Killian says and smoothes the cuff of his jacket sleeve over his stump, the tone of his voice making it clear he's not up for that line of questioning, and Emma decides to respect it.

For now.

"How long have you lived here?" She asks him instead, leaning her elbows on the table and feeling a bit like she's falling over the edge of the world when he turns his blue eyes on her and gives her his fully attention.

"Came here right after art school and decided to stick around", he says and Emma feels beyond annoyed when a waitress sashays to their table and openly flirts with him as she takes their orders. "How old are you now, Swan?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"You were thirty last time I saw you."

"And what am I up to in the future?" Emma asks and Killian smiles to himself, then shakes his head and tells her that he's not supposed to talk about that. "Why not?"

"One of your rules, actually."

"I have rules?"

"When you told me that you are a time-traveler I didn't believe you at first, but asked you questions about our future anyway, and you said that it needs to be lived, not heard about beforehand", Killian says and she bites her lip because he had said "our future", and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that they are not just friends.

He's probably trying not to, but Killian keeps looking at Emma as if he's the love of his life.

"No questions about the future, got it", Emma says with a salute and clinks her coffee mug against his beer glass. "Let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?" He asks cautiously and leans a little bit closer to her, his ocean scent enveloping her and making her relax even though she should be furious that her entire future has already played out with him, and she's not allowed to know about it.

"I'll stop with the questions if you pretend that I'm just your next door neighbor."

"I suppose I can do that", Killian says and Emma grins.

"This is our first date. Ask me things people ask on first dates."

"Oh it's a date?" He teases and for a second he manages to fool her into thinking that she read him all wrong before a beautiful smile blossoms on his face and she discovers that he's got a set of dimples anyone would envy him for.

"Funny."

"Thought it might be. Tell me then, Swan; what did you want to be when u grew up?" He asks her and she doesn't know if he's just a good actor or if he had never asked her that question before.

"A doctor", Emma answers without hesitation and goes on when he gives her an encouraging nod. "I grew up in an orphanage and I was raised to believe that doctors can fix everything, so I convinced myself that if I became a doctor I would be able to find every abandoned kid a home. Took me a while to figure out that it wasn't how things worked, and besides, I'd have never managed to keep up with med school because of traveling."

Killian is so riveted with what she's saying that Emma gets slightly self-conscious, taking a sip of her coffee while he ponders his response.

"I know for a fact that you would make an excellent doctor, Swan", he finally tells her and she lifts her eyebrow because he's really laying it on thick, not to mention that her curiosity about the future just keeps growing.

"What about you?"

"A pirate."

"No, but really."

"I wanted to be a pirate", he says and waves his left arm in the air. "Got my wish, when you think about it."

"I think you're too decent to ever be a pirate", Emma tells him and he lifts his eyebrow, then puts a fiver on the table and stands up.

"Would you like to wager on that?" He asks and offers her his hand, which Emma takes without hesitation, grabbing his book and notes in the other before they walk away from the bar looking as casual as possible.

"Judging by that, I'm more of a pirate than you are", Emma tells him when they are half-way across the park and nobody comes after them, her hand still held in his.

"How so?"

"When I leave, I don't leave any money behind", she tells him and revels in the sound of his laugh, hoping she will see him soon even before they say goodbye.

The second she walks into her apartment and closes the door her world tilts and she finds herself far, far away from Killian.

She already hates being where he's not, when he's not.

* * *

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	4. Hold Onto Me

**Thank you for all the reviews and follows, and I hope you enjoy this chapter too. P.S. Just to clear something; since Emma travels through time, the events Killian has lived are still in the future for her, so that's why he's already in love with her and knows her so well.**

* * *

 _May 18_ _th_ _2012\. (Killian is 32)_

Killian has been knocking on Emma's door every day for the past week on his way home from work but she never answered, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that she'd gotten misplaced in time again.

Another quick rap of his knuckles followed by perfect silence makes him grit his teeth and lean his forehead against her door, cursing the fate and her condition for making them go through this.

It's so hard being left behind, but he knows that Emma has it a hundred times worse, all alone, homeless, probably hungry and most likely cold; the worst thing is that he can't do anything to make it better.

He can't do anything to help her unless she travels to the time he had spent in the hospital after his accident, and even then he only had to offer her hospital food and a warm bed at times when the nurses were too busy to realize that the girl wearing ill-fitting scrubs shouldn't be in his room.

Killian opens a beer and sits on the couch staring at the wall without really seeing it, then shakes himself and reaches for the sketch book, balancing the can on his knee as he looks through his drawings.

Every other one is Emma and he looks around the room to find something to draw that will take him out of his head for a bit, maybe help him find some peace.

He knows it's a lost cause because his stomach is constantly in knots now, his entire being attuned to the absence of Emma in the apartment next door.

She had once told him that she's scared he would regret ever meeting her, and it's a cold comfort to find that he never will.

* * *

 _May 20_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

It's the middle of the night and somebody is knocking on Killian's door, and judging by the impatience of knocks, they've been at it for some time. Killian squints at the alarm clock and practically jumps out of the bed when he realizes it could be Emma needing help.

Five seconds later he's opening the door to find Emma standing in the hallway wearing sneakers that are too big for her and some kind of printed overalls that have seen better days, and the relief he feels comes out in an inappropriate chuckle.

"Nice to know you find my outfit amusing", Emma says but she doesn't sound pissed off, her eyes roaming over his chest and reminding him that he didn't bother with a shirt before his mad dash through the apartment.

The urge to angle his body so that his stump is not on such display is strong, but Killian ignores it because she'd seen it before and it never seemed to bother her.

"I'm just glad to see that you are alright", he tells her and opens the door wider, wordlessly inviting her in.

"I'm sorry for waking you, but I can't find my key", she says and glares at her doormat, but doesn't move from her spot.

"Not in its usual hiding place?"

"Wouldn't be here if it were", she says sharply and bites her lip, clearly thinking she's ruining her chances at getting help from him.

He's coming to realize that she's either sleepy or cranky after her travels, but he doesn't mind either because he feels privileged to be the one she turns to in need.

"Come on in, then. We'll call a locksmith in the morning and you can give me a spare key for future emergencies. If you want", he adds hastily because he can tell that he's being too familiar again and it's not having the desired effect.

"Maybe I should just call Elsa and have her pick me up", Emma says and he does his best to appear unaffected even though her hesitation to trust him is breaking his heart.

"If that's what you want, you're welcome to use my phone and wait in my living room", he tells her and walks back in the direction of his bedroom without turning back.

She might not trust him yet, but he trusts her.

"Killian, wait", Emma calls after him and he looks at her over his shoulder, hoping against hope that she lets him help her in the only way he can. "Is it okay if I crash on your couch again?"

"Any time you want, love", he tells her and gets a pillow, sheet and blanket from the closet, putting them down on the armchair and bidding her goodnight because he can tell she wouldn't appreciate him hovering around.

"Good night", she echoes and he leans against his bedroom door, listening to her move around for a moment before he slides back into bed.

It's the first night in a while his sleep is uninterrupted because he knows Emma is alright.

* * *

Killian groans when his alarm clock goes off, and for a moment he's not sure if last night was just a dream, but he gets dressed before he ventures out of his bedroom nonetheless.

Emma is already awake, making an omelet with a phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she explains her locked-out situation.

"Sit", she orders and Killian obeys while she recites their address and tells the locksmith that she'll be waiting in 3B. "He says he can't come before noon."

"Or, I go out and buy some bobby pins", Killian says as she puts the eggs on his plate and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're only suggesting that now?"

"The store was closed at 3 a.m.", he points out and takes a bite of his breakfast, then tries not to be too obvious as he sprinkles more salt on it.

"You just like having me around", Emma says and he looks up to find her giving him an amused smile, then sits across from him and sips coffee from his favorite mug.

For a long minute he just watches her, taking in her golden locks and the smooth skin of her arms, and it is incredibly hard to fight the urge to kiss every single bruise that stands out between her beauty marks.

"Guilty as charged", Killian says with a wink and finally realizes what Emma had meant when she said that everything would be better once they found each other in the present.

They've had one date, two sleepovers and one breakfast together, and it already is.

* * *

 _May 25_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

"I heard the game through the wall, so I thought I'd join you", Emma says as soon as Killian opens the door and walks past him with a six pack of beer held under one arm.

"I'm glad you did", he says and follows after her, turning the armchair around so that its back is facing the TV before he settles on the couch again.

"You know about my issue with TVs?" Emma asks and throws him a beer before she takes one for herself and curls up on the armchair with her legs tucked under her.

"The flickering aggravates your condition", Killian says and wonders if she realizes that he stopped caring about the game the second she walked into his apartment.

"Is that what we're calling it? A condition?" Emma asks dejectedly and he shrugs, holding his beer can against his stomach with his forearm so that he can pry it open.

"What do you call it?"

"A curse", Emma says and leans her head back, her eyes exploring the ceiling as if it's the most fascinating one she'd ever seen.

Killian doesn't tell her that her peculiar problem is the reason they are sitting here today.

"How did you become a librarian?" He asks her instead even though he'd heard that story several times before.

She seems fond of telling it, and it always makes him smile when he pictures an eighteen year old bespectacled Emma getting caught rearranging a shelf that the local troublemakers messed up on a dare.

"Am I ever going to see any of your art?" Emma asks when he mutes the half-time commercials and Killian realizes that for once they are going to share an experience together for the first time, but he finds that he's not yet ready for doing that.

"Someday, you will", he tells her and her eyes dart toward the coffee table, then back to his, and she nods to herself as if giving a silent promise that she will wait until he's ready.

"Did you know I would eventually move here?" Emma asks out of the blue, but he can tell that it's a question she'd been pondering for quite some time.

"No, actually. As I told you, I've been living in Boston almost since I left England, but I moved around a lot."

"Oh", Emma says softly and he bites his tongue because he should probably not say what he's about to tell her.

"You told me to have faith before you… well, other you, left. I was fully prepared to drop everything and go look for you right away, but you said that it wasn't the right time, that you weren't ready for me", Killian says and Emma ponders that for a while, her finger tracing the edge of the can while he mentally kicks himself for being so stupid.

His devotion doesn't mean anything to her because he doesn't mean anything.

At least not yet.

"I think… the older me was right", Emma finally says and Killian is so relieved he didn't blow it that he doesn't ask her to explain what she meant with that.

They are quiet until the game starts again and Killian does his best to describe the plays because the commentator is bloody awful and Emma keeps complaining, and it's not long before they are roaring with laughter because she finds Killian's colorful curses amusing.

"You could actually make a living out of doing this", she says and he drops his voice one octave lower, grinning when she giggles and throws her empty beer can at him.

"Oh come on! My dead grandmother would score that!" He yells at the TV and Emma gets up from the armchair and settles down next to him, her shoulder leaning into his as she watches the replay.

"That guy is lame."

"Tell me about it", Killian grumbles and resists the urge to brush away a lock of hair that's fallen from behind Emma's ear and hid her face from him.

"Shit", Emma says and doubles over, his heart picking up speed as soon as he realizes what's happening.

"Bloody hell", he says and turns off the TV even though he knows that won't help. "Swan?"

"I hate this", she says and sits up straight, and Killian acts on instinct, his hand reaching for hers; he fingers are as delicate and warm as he remembers, and they still fit perfectly with his, and when Emma looks up at him for a moment he's confused because she had never looked more like his Emma. "Don't let go."

"What?" He asks in confusion but holds her hand tighter because he doesn't want her to go, he doesn't want her to be in jeopardy again, looking for clothes and food and somewhere dry to sleep.

"I feel better", she says and looks down at their joined hands, then back up at his eyes. "I don't feel like I'm about to travel anymore."

"You mean…" Killian trails off, his brain having trouble wrapping itself around the fact that something as simple as him holding her hand can keep Emma from traveling.

"I feel normal", Emma says, and her smile could light up the entire world. "You kept me here!"

"You think so?"

She throws her arms around him without warning, her face pressing against his neck and her small body molding against his the way it hadn't for years, and Killian can't do anything but close his eyes and carefully embrace her, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and counting his blessings.

One moment he's holding her, and the next his arms are empty, her clothes strewn across his lap.

He should've known that there are no miracles in this world.

There is no doubt that someday he's going to curse the fact that his hand can't stop Emma from traveling, only postpone it until the moment he lets her go.

* * *

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	5. Into the Past

**The story gets complicated, but angst is coming, so enjoy the calm while it lasts and thank you for reading!**

* * *

 _July 4_ _th_ _2005\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 25)_

Emma is kneeling in some kind of a storage closet laden with medical supplies, still reeling with the realization that Killian had been able to keep her in the present by holding her hand.

Over the years Emma had tried various things to stop herself from traveling, but she had never dreamed that all it would take would be holding the hand of somebody special.

Neal will have tried keeping her with him by doing the same and it wouldn't have worked, and Emma feels her stomach sink at the realization that Killian might be the one for her; most of her life decisions have been made for her, and she feels like it's happening again, something greater than herself pushing her toward Killian.

The nausea that comes with being misplaced in time and space passes and Emma gets up from the floor, looking around and sighing in relief when she notices scrubs neatly laid over a chair; they seem clean too, and she puts them on, only having to roll up the pant legs once before she's ready to go out into the world.

The hallway outside the supply room is deserted and Emma slips out, then starts walking purposely in the direction of the elevator, knowing that nobody is going to question her if she just looks like she belongs.

Another lesson Emma had learned over the years of being in places she wasn't supposed to be at.

"Swan!" A voice calls from one of the rooms she passes and Emma freezes, debating on whether it would be better if she just kept on walking, because she knows who's in the room, and she's not really sure if spending more time with him is such a good idea.

Emma's legs move seemingly without any direction from her brain, and she slowly walks into Killian Jones' hospital room.

"There you are", he says warmly, his eyes bright and so very blue in his pale face, his head tilting on his pillow as he watches her approach his bed. "I was beginning to think you were only a vision caused by medication."

"I come here often?" Emma asks before she can stop herself, then bites her tongue and gives him a feeble smile.

Killian looks so very young, the laugh lines that will surround his eyes someday not there yet; what's there are pins in his leg, a bandage wrapped around his chest and a pillow underneath his left arm, which ends in a stump encased in what looks like a stretchy sock, but what throws Emma the most is Killian's smile.

There is no doubt that her unexpected visit is going to be the highlight of his day.

"You were last here two days ago. I think", he says and taps the bed by his hip, inviting her to sit down.

"Are you sure it's okay?" She asks him because the last thing she wants is jostle him, but he just wiggles his eyebrows and tells her not to worry about him.

Emma sits down and puts a lock of hair behind her ear, relying on him to make conversation because she's not quite sure if he knows about her issues yet.

"Are you alright, love? You seem… different", Killian asks and captures her hand in his, and it feels like an electric jolt shooting through her system.

"I'm not the one lying in hospital bed", she tells him in a small voice that doesn't quite seem like her own; her vision is growing suspiciously blurry and she blinks furiously, focusing her gaze on their entwined fingers, but that doesn't help much because he's smoothing his thumb over her knuckles and she can't remember when was the last time somebody had touched her with such gentleness.

"Are you getting mushy on me, lass?" Killian asks in a teasing voice that manages to coax a smile from her, and she tells herself that there's no need to worry about him because she had seen him twenty minutes ago and he was okay.

He is going to get out of the hospital and he's going to be okay.

"Do you need anything?" She asks, overwhelmed with a sudden urge to do something for him, something tangible that he'll remember once she's gone.

"Just stay where you are", he says and gives her a smile that makes her feel like she's got a flock of butterflies in her stomach. "You rushed off so quickly last time."

"I-"

"It's alright, lass. You don't have to explain yourself to me. Whatever the reason you're wasting your time here with me, I'm grateful for it", he tells her and shifts a little against the pillows, a muscle in his jaw jumping when he grits his teeth.

"Your family isn't big on visits?" Emma asks and he shrugs, then winces and tells her that he doesn't really have anybody.

"But there's this lovely lass who just waltzes in every so often wearing ill-fitting scrubs, eats my jello and regales me with stories of quirky people she had met working in various libraries", Killian says and Emma realizes that she needs to get a grip before he realizes that this is the first time she stepped foot into his room.

"I guess I'm just having an off day", she says and Killian gives her an assessing look, making her feel like he can see right through her and inside her, so she averts her eyes and looks toward the window and the branches of a tree swaying outside.

"What's bothering you, Emma?" He asks her softly and she gets up, walking back and forth in front of his bed while she gathers her thoughts.

"Have you ever felt like your life is completely beyond your control? Like fate keeps pushing you in one direction and while you don't think it's a bad one, you're not necessary sure you like the fact that you don't really have much choice in the matter?"

"I haven't felt like that until I woke up from a six month long coma with a blonde angel leaning over me", Killian says in a ridiculous over-dramatic voice that makes Emma roll her eyes even as the corners of her mouth lift into a smile. "You can believe in fate and still make your own choices, Emma."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say that fate does somehow keeps pushing you toward this hospital, or even this hallway… It's still your choice to come in and spend time with me", Killian says and Emma bites her lip because he doesn't really get it, and he won't get it unless she tells him the whole truth.

She can't tell him the whole truth because it was clear by the other Killian's reaction that he had no idea he could stop her from traveling.

"It's getting late. I should go", Emma says and backtracks toward the door because she really needs some time to process all this and find clothes that won't get her kicked out of the hospital.

"See? You're still free to make a choice", Killian says and Emma hesitates because she can tell that he's disappointed even though he's trying to hide behind smirks and ridiculous eyebrow wiggles.

"I'll come back", Emma tells him, not even trying to fight the acute urge to reassure him.

"I don't need your pity, Swan", Killian says, all signs of teasing gone, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity she hadn't experienced before. "I'll be fine even if you never come back."

Emma opens her mouth to tell him that while she doesn't know what is going to keep bringing her back to him, it's definitely not pity, but he turns his head away, deliberately staring out of the window until she gets the message and leaves his room.

She might be choosing to leave him today, but she doubts she'll manage to resist coming back tomorrow if her genes decide to keep her in this time as long as they usually do.

There's just too much about Killian Jones she doesn't know yet that might help her understand why is he the only one who can help her stay in the moment.

She's pretty sure it has nothing to do with his dashing good looks.

* * *

 _July 5_ _th_ _2005\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 25)_

Less than twenty-four hours later Emma walks back into the hospital and rides the elevator to the second floor, looking herself over in the mirror and deciding that she actually looks quite presentable considering the fact that she had stolen her clothes from a car without checking them on for size and then slept in those same clothes in a different car half the city away.

"Hey", Emma says and hovers in the doorway of Killian's room, her fingers tightly squeezing the McDonalds paper bag as she waits to see if he's going to let her in.

"Swan", Killian says curtly and Emma takes it as encouragement to go further into the room.

"I brought lunch."

"Already ate", Killian says, but he's eying the bag with hungry eyes and Emma tries not to smile as she perches on the bed next to him.

"You don't even have room for fries?" Emma asks and takes them out of the bag, setting them on her thigh and dousing them with ketchup.

"I hate it when you do that", Killian says but there's a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth as he selects a fry and drags just the very top through the sauce.

"Do what?" Emma asks innocently and hopes he's going to answer even though it's clear that she should already know this.

"Drown them in ketchup like you always do and leaving me to try and find ones that aren't completely sodden. Have some mercy on the one-handed guy, would you, love?" Killian says and Emma's eyes dart to his stump before they lock on his.

"You seem to be doing quite alright", she tells him and pops a fry into her mouth, then licks her lips because there's a bit of ketchup smeared at the corner of his mouth and she would very much like to wipe it away.

His tongue mimics hers and their eyes lock with such intensity that she suddenly feels too warm even though she's only wearing a sleeveless top.

"What is the sock for?" Emma asks and Killian visibly deflates, carefully selecting another fry before he speaks.

"It's supposed to prepare my stump for the prosthesis. I don't know the details because I tune the doctor out when he talks about it", Killian says, studiously avoiding Emma's eyes, and she almost asks him why he never bothers with actually wearing it before she remembers that this Killian isn't the one who lives next door from her.

"What's wrong with getting a prosthesis?"

"Can I hold a brush with it?" Killian asks her and Emma gapes at him, his question throwing her for a loop because she had saw him draw and he seemed to be quite comfortable using his right hand.

"Why would you want-", Emma starts to say, then abruptly trails off when the realization hits her like a freight train.

Killian is left-handed, and his left hand is gone.

"You can hold the brush with your right", Emma manages to say around the lump in her throat, her fingers finding his and squeezing although her eyes never stray from his face.

"I can't even write with my right, much less paint with it", Killian tells her, and it's the first time since she'd come in here that she had seen him truly defeated; it makes her wonder if that's how he always looks when she's not around.

"Someday you will", Emma says and although he looks skeptical, it's painfully obvious how much he wants to believe her.

"What if I can't?" He asks and Emma shakes her head because she knows that the only thing standing in his way is his own reluctance to try.

"Then you will draw", Emma says and finds another mostly intact fry she dips into ketchup and holds in front of his mouth until he gives in and takes a bite.

"How can you be so confident?" Killian wonders and Emma taps her finger on each of his knuckles in turn, smiles and eats another fry.

"That is for me to know and you to figure out."

* * *

 **Review?**


	6. Ancient History

**My vacation is over, so I promise you updates much quicker from now on. For now, enjoy, and thank you everybody who took the time to review.  
**

* * *

 _June 2_ _nd_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian is about to leave for work when he hears a thump coming from his living room, and he barges in without thinking, finding Emma kneeling next to the couch completely naked.

"Gods, Emma", he gasps and blinks in surprise when Emma tries to shield herself from his gaze.

"Turn around!" She exclaims and Killian obeys even though it's nothing he hadn't seen before.

He has to keep reminding himself that this is not the Emma who was in love with him, and every time he does is like a pinprick to his heart.

"Apologies, love."

"Where did you put my clothes?" Emma asks and Killian points in the vague direction of his bedroom, sending a quick text to Regina to let her know that he's going to be late before he shrugs out of his jacket and sits down on the couch.

It's been five days since Emma disappeared from his arms and he doesn't have any intention of letting her out of his sight until he makes sure she's alright.

"You often barge in on naked women?" Emma speaks from the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her eyes flashing with annoyance.

"I just wanted to make sure you're not hurt", Killian tells her and watches her approach him, scooting away to give her more room because he's not sure where they stand, especially considering the power he's got to keep her anchored in the present.

"I just saw you", Emma says and slowly sinks down on the other end of the couch. "In the hospital."

"Are you hungry? I think I have some leftovers-"

"I'm not", Emma cuts him off and looks around the room gathering her thoughts, then notices the clock and tilts her head toward it. "Shouldn't you go to work?"

"They will be fine without me for a bit", Killian reassures her and drums his fingers on his knee.

"You told me before that you were in a car accident, and just yesterday you said that I was there when you woke up from a coma", Emma says and glances at his leg before she returns her eyes to his face.

"You were with me often when I was in the hospital."

"How did you get into an accident?" Emma asks and although he's not sure where she's going with this, he answers her truthfully.

"I don't really remember. I remember driving, and I know it was dark and late, but I don't think I was tired. I woke up in the hospital six months later and you were there. You told me that everything would be okay, went to get the doctor and then I haven't seen you for about a month", Killian says and Emma nods mutely, but doesn't say anything else for a long while.

"You didn't find it strange that I kept coming back even though we haven't met before?" She finally asks and looks at him from under her eyelashes, her palms restlessly rubbing her thighs.

"I had a beautiful woman popping in every few days, choosing to spend time with me; I didn't want to question it", Killian tells her and revels in the faint blush that colors Emma's cheeks.

"We fell in love, didn't we?" Emma asks out of the blue and Killian swallows a lump in his throat because that is a loaded question and he doesn't want to make her feel pressured in any way.

"I fell in love with you, and you were more often than not already in love with me", he tells her and Emma contemplates that for a while, then nods to herself and gives him an almost shy smile.

"I guess it's time you took me out on another date then, and we see what happens", she says and he feels like a huge weight has lifted off his shoulders because there's no doubt in his mind that Emma is going to fall in love with him too.

"Are you asking me out, Miss Swan?" He teases and Emma rolls her eyes, then surprises him when she leans across the space separating them and takes hold of his hand.

"I am, and it's not because this hand is the only thing that can keep me here a while longer", she says earnestly, and he realizes he knows exactly the time she had traveled back to.

"The one and only time you willingly walked out of my room before they kicked you out or you went back to your own time… It just happened, didn't it?"

"How did you know?"

"You were preoccupied with questions of fate and choice", Killian tells her and smoothes his thumb over her pale knuckles. "You seem to have come to the obvious conclusion."

"Which is?"

"You are the one who chooses who you're going to fall in love with; fate can give you a nudge, but the final decision rests only with you", Killian says and Emma gives him a bright smile, squeezing his hand before she lets go and tells him that he should really get to work now. "Very well. Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Pick me up at 8", Emma tells him and takes the key of her apartment from the bowl in the hallway while Killian shrugs back into his jacket.

It took him seven years to get Emma to go out with him, but no matter how peculiar it was, Killian wouldn't change a minute of their courtship.

* * *

 _June 3_ _rd_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian knocks on Emma's door at precisely 8 p.m., rocking on the balls of his feet and trying to tone down his grin because he doesn't want to appear overexcited.

Which in fact he is.

Emma's door remains firmly closed and Killian frowns because he had seen her not two hours ago when she came by to return her spare key, and it never even occurred to him that she might be gone just in time for their date.

"Bloody Hell", he mutters and knocks on the door a few more times, his stomach sinking lower and lower because Emma is clearly not home.

She's somewhere in the past where he can't get to.

Killian sighs and returns to his apartment, but he's too restless to do anything but pace so he uses Emma's key to let himself into her place, finding a pretty pink dress in a neat pile in the hallway.

"You can never catch a break, can you, Swan?" He says and picks up the dress, draping it over the back side of the couch and sitting down for a minute, his face in his hand and his heart heavy because loving Emma isn't getting any easier.

He'd been starving for her company, and it feels like he sees her even less than he used to.

It's not much of a comfort to think that she might be with his younger self precisely this second.

Killian doesn't know how long it's been since he sat down and didn't move again, the knock on the door startling him because he shouldn't really be here.

"Open the door!" Emma yells and Killian is doing just that a moment later, about to ask her how she got there but never getting a word out because he notices the way she's looking at him, instantly realizing that she's not the Emma he's supposed to take out on a date tonight.

"Swan?"

"Hello, sailor", she says and steps over the threshold, her slender arms wrapping around him and her lips pressing against his; he sighs into the kiss and tangles his fingers in her long hair, closing the door with his foot and pinning her against the wall next to it with his body.

Their tongues tangle together and something loosens inside Killian's chest, his arms tightening around Emma until she whimpers and he realizes he's squeezing her too tightly.

"I missed you so much", he whispers against her ear and holds her as she presses kisses against his cheek and rubs her hand up and down his back.

"It will get better", she tells him and he pulls back to look at her, his knuckles caressing her cheek as he studies her eyes, feeling like everything is finally right with the world because this is the woman he loves, and when she looks at him he knows that she loves him too.

"We were supposed to go out on a date", Killian says and Emma gives him an apologetic smile, her fingers playing through his hair in a motion that does nothing to soothe him. "Are you at least with me in the past?"

"I'm not. It's 1999 and I'm locked up in a bathroom waiting for Walmart to close so I can steal some clothes and break out of it", Emma tells him and presses her thumb against the scar on his cheek before she leads him to the couch and sits down straddling his lap. "You have to be patient with her."

"You mean with you?" Killian asks with a raised eyebrow and Emma smacks his shoulder because they both know what she wanted to say.

"She's going to come back in a few days and you're going to have your date", Emma tells him and chases his lips with hers, her hands framing his face and her weight settling across his thighs in the most perfect way imaginable.

He had missed this, missed being able to touch her and hold her and kiss her any time he pleases.

Like right this second, for example, Killian can slide his hand underneath her t-shirt and press his palm against the small of her back, his fingertips caressing up the prominent line of her spine as she presses his lips to the side of her neck, his scent surrounding him and making him feel light and unburdened by everything he knows and she doesn't.

This Emma knows more than him, and he doesn't have to walk on eggshells, doesn't have to hold anything back, least of all his affection.

He doesn't have to apologize for loving her or pretend that he doesn't because she already knows that she's everything that matters to him.

"How are things? In the future?" He asks her a while later, pausing the snog-fest because he would give anything to know how long before he can be like this with the other Emma.

He winces inwardly because he's not being fair, because Emma is Emma and he had loved her the moment he'd first seen her.

It's just exhausting loving somebody who doesn't love you back.

"Things are… complicated", Emma tells him and kisses him so passionately it leaves him breathless, heat racing through his blood and making him respond in kind; it seems that Emma is as hungry for him as he is for her, which doesn't make any sense considering the things he knows about the future.

"What do you mean, complicated?" He manages to cut the kiss short even though he just wants to undress her and lose himself in her.

Somehow it doesn't feel right but he's not about to examine that feeling too closely.

Emma ducks her head and when he brushes away the curtain of hair that's hidden her face from his gaze, he finds that her chin is trembling and her eyes are shining with tears the way they do when she's desperately trying not to cry.

"Love, what's wrong?" He asks her softly but she doesn't answer him, just tips forward and rests her forehead against his.

"I don't want you to know yet", she says, her chest heaving as she chokes back a sob, her fingers squeezing his shoulders as if she's trying to keep herself here by sheer force of will.

"You don't want me to know what?" Killian asks her, his hand and stump resting on her waist and gently rubbing her sides because he can't bear to see her in such pain.

He would gladly give up his hand again if it meant she would never have a reason to cry.

"I'm sorry", Emma says and looks up, her face slowly growing transparent, his fingers closing on the material of her shirt because she's already gone.

Killian gathers her clothes in his arms and walks out of her apartment, wishing he could go to sleep and wake up when Emma finally returns.

* * *

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	7. A Miracle Happens

**Thank you for all your encouragement and enthusiasm, and I hope you're up for some angst. Enjoy, and on with the story!  
**

* * *

 _February 8_ _th_ _2005\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 24)_

Emma opens her eyes and groans under her breath, then slowly gets up and looks around, her stomach clenching when she realizes that she's in the supply room again. It looks the same as it did the last time only without the convenient scrubs left on a chair in the corner, and a mild sense of panic washes over Emma at the thought of darting across the hallway into the changing room naked.

The longer she stays where is the, the greater the chance of getting caught, so Emma pokes her head out the door, looks up and down the hallway and tiptoes across, sighing in relief when she finds the changing room empty.

Most of the lockers aren't locked and she finds a sweater and jeans that are a little bit too big on her, but it's not so bad when she tucks the sweater in, which is more than she had hoped for.

Shoes are a different story and she ends up going barefoot, casually strolling along the hallway until she reaches Killian's room and slipping inside feeling good about herself because nobody had seen her.

"Who are you?" A young, timid-looking nurse asks and Emma puts a cheerful smile on her face, introducing herself as Killian's cousin because she's not sure about the time she's in and who has the visitation rights.

The curtain from the other bed is hiding Killian from her but it's also hiding the fact that Emma doesn't have shoes, so she stays where she is.

"He's been here for months and nobody ever came", the nurse says mournfully and glances at Killian, the tender look on her face making Emma feel a pang of jealousy she quickly squishes.

"I've been travelling, but now I'm here", Emma says and steps forward, but the nurse is too busy staring at Killian to notice Emma's bare feet.

The first look at Killian's face makes Emma's cheeks drain of color even though she shouldn't be surprised; she had known that she would travel to a time when Killian was in a coma eventually, but there's a difference between knowing it and actually seeing it.

"I've tried talking to him but I don't get much free time. They say that it helps wake them up sometimes", the nurse murmurs and gives Emma a kind smile before adjusting Killian's IV line and silently retreating, either oblivious to her distraught state or too used to it to care.

Emma nods and waits until the door closes before she walks around the bed and carefully sits down, her fingers entwined in her lap because she's afraid to touch Killian's, afraid he's going to be cold and not feel like himself at all.

He sure as hell doesn't look much like her sexy neighbor right now, with dark circles under his bruised lids and too-prominent cheekbones that stand out starkly against his ashen skin.

"Hey, Jones", Emma says softly and clears her throat because her voice sounds weak and too raspy. "I hear you've been sleeping for a long time."

There's a silly part of Emma that still believes in fairytales which feels disappointed because Killian doesn't even twitch, but Emma keeps going because at least she knows it's just a matter of time before he wakes up.

Sometimes, being a time-traveler isn't so bad.

"You don't know me yet, but we're going to be friends in a couple of years… maybe even more than friends if I ever manage to show up for our dates. I missed two so far, but you seem pretty stoic about that", Emma says and catches herself reaching for his hand, hesitating a moment because she's afraid of disturbing his heart monitor, and finally settling on lying the heel of her palm against his wrist. "I think the nurse is into you."

Killian sleeps on and Emma keeps talking, telling him about some of her more memorable travels just to pass the time, but he doesn't move and she looks up in surprise to realize that it's getting dark outside.

Boston is cold in February and Emma shivers at the thought of going out, but she can't allow herself to be caught here after visiting hours and attract too much attention; the future is not set in stone, and she's pretty sure that getting banned from coming to the hospital would cause a chain reaction with untold consequences for her timeline.

"I have to go, but I'll be back", she says and squeezes Killian's arm, lingering a minute longer and searching the closet in the corner, helping herself to a pair of his socks before she walks out on a quest to find shoes, a coat, money or, if she's lucky, all of the above.

* * *

 _February 9_ _th_ _2005\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 24)_

There's a cop knocking on the window of the car Emma has spent the night in and she curses under her breath, slowly stepping out and raising her arms in supplication at the woman who must be the owner.

"I'm really sorry. The door was unlocked and it was so cold last night", Emma says, huddling deeper into the thin jacket she had stolen yesterday, and she doesn't even have to pretend that her teeth are knocking against each other.

"You're under arrest-"

"Wait, officer", the woman with a pixie cut says and steps between the cop and Emma, effectively stopping him from going through with the arrest with a few well-placed compliments and some mild flirting.

"Thank you", Emma says once the cop leaves, still unable to believe that she's not riding to a police station in the back of a cruiser.

It wouldn't be the first time, although, her condition never actually lets the cops take her prints and book her in because she always disappears before that can happen.

"I've seen enough women down on their luck; the only reason I brought the cop was that I wasn't sure if you were dangerous", the woman says and Emma bites her lip, shivering and trying to figure out a way to leave without being rude. "Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"Oh no, I couldn't impose-"

"Nonsense. It's no problem at all", the woman says and waves a dismissive hand at Emma's objections. "I'm Mary Margaret."

"Emma."

"Where do you want to go, Emma?"

"A friend of mine is in the hospital, but I was gonna kill the time until visiting hours in the library", Emma says, catching herself edging around the car toward the passenger seat because she really is freezing.

"How about you join me for breakfast? There's a bakery around the corner", Mary Margaret says and Emma agrees because her instincts are telling her she can trust this good Samaritan with kind, sad eyes.

There is something about Mary Margaret that seems familiar somehow, or at least comforting, and Emma lets her buy them both a bagel and a cup of coffee.

"Do you do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Buy random people breakfast?" Emma asks, feeling uneasy for accepting; if anything, she should be the one paying to thank Mary Margaret for not getting her arrested.

"Actually, I do. I run the homeless shelter", Mary Margaret says and Emma wonders if she really looks so bad that people assume she's homeless too, then abruptly realizes that she is in fact homeless every time she gets misplaced in time. "Are you homeless, Emma?"

"Not exactly", Emma says quietly, feeling an odd sense of pressure in her chest at Mary Margaret's concern.

"Are you homeless at the moment?"

"Sort of."

"Does your state of being have anything to do with your friend who's in the hospital? Were you staying with them?" Mary Margaret asks and Emma's first instinct is to lie and agree with her, but something about the look in the woman's eyes stops her.

"It doesn't, but I can't really explain either", Emma says and Mary Margaret nods to herself, then slips a calling card across the table.

"This is the shelter address and my phone number. If you decide to let me help you, call or come over", she says and stands up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and giving Emma one more encouraging smile before she leaves.

Half an hour later Emma follows and takes Mary Margaret up on her offer.

It's precisely 4 p.m. when Emma walks into Killian's room again, freshly showered and wearing clothes that might be old, but are perfectly clean and even fit her nicely.

"Hello, handsome", Emma says, then cringes when her voice echoes around the room; she has no idea what she's doing but she doesn't let it stop her.

There's nobody else who can take her place and if she's being honest, she doesn't want there to be because Killian is special to her, and she wants to be special to him too, wants to do for him what nobody else can.

"I met an amazing woman today", she says and sits on the edge of Killian's bed, her palm settling above his heart that beats steady and true even though he'd been in a coma for a long time. "She's a lot like you, befriending strangers and helping them when nobody else would."

For a second Emma thinks that there's a twitch at the corner of Killian's mouth, but nothing else happens, so she guesses it was just a trick of the light and her wishful thinking that had made it happen.

Her life is not like the movies and Killian is not going to wake up after just a few hours of being in her presence no matter how much she wishes he would.

"You can sleep for as long as you need to. I'm not going to give up on trying to wake you up", Emma says and takes his hand in hers, slowly tracing his knuckles with her finger and telling him more about her past.

* * *

 _February 12_ _th_ _2005\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 24)_

Even though Emma's forays into the past usually lasts between two days and a week, she feels like this one is taking exceptionally long although it's only been five days.

She had spent every afternoon with Killian and every morning helping out in the shelter, doing whatever they need to keep it running smoothly because there are people far less fortunate than she is and she didn't have anything better to do anyway.

Mary Margaret appreciated the help, and it also made Emma feel less like she's taking up space without giving anything back in return.

"I brought music", Emma says and sets a small portable cassette tape player on the bedside table, then leans down and gives Killian a kiss on the cheek. "I know you usually listen to classic rock but all I found was this old Billy Ray Cyrus album… I kinda think it might make you wake up just so you can tell me to turn it the bloody hell off."

It's funny how such a simple thing as somebody not laughing at your lame jokes can hurt so much.

"Last chance", Emma says and presses play, but the second she sits down and takes Killian's hand in hers his fingers twitch, and when she looks at his face she realizes that his eyes are moving beneath his lids as if he's struggling through a nightmare. "Killian?"

She leans over him and cups his face in her hand, brushing her thumb over his cheek, silently willing him to open his eyes and finally look at her.

"Wake up, Killian", Emma says, smoothing her thumb over the scar on his cheek, holding her breath for a miracle she knows is coming.

Killian's grip on her hand is weak but she can feel it, and Emma keeps talking to him, asking him to wake up, to fight and to find his way out of the dark.

And then he does; his eyelashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly before finally lifting all the way up, his eyes darting around the room before they settle on Emma.

"There you are", Emma says, somehow managing to sound composed even though her heart is slamming against her ribcage.

Killian is trying to talk but he can't around the tube in his throat, his fingers squeezing hers with bruising strength until she reassures him that she's not going anywhere.

"Just look at me. Everything is alright", she tells him, his wide eyes locked on hers; he's looking at her in a way that makes her think he believes her to be some kind of an angel sent from heaven to ease his suffering, and she hates the fact that she doesn't seem to be doing him much good.

Emma only realizes that she's starting to disappear as she tries to hold him down when he reaches for the tube with his left arm, his eyes closing and a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks once he sees what the accident had cost him.

"Somebody help!" Emma screams, startling them both, and she holds on to Killian, one hand in his and the other on his shoulder even as her own time starts pulling her back, the irresistible force tearing her from Killian's side when he needs her most. "I will come back, I promise."

Killian shakes his head desperately, his fingers closing on empty air as Emma gives him one last smile and disappears.

* * *

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	8. Life Will Go On

**Thank you for reading and reviewing, and without furter ado, have the new chapter.  
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* * *

 _June 4_ _th_ _2012\. (Killian is 32)_

Killian doesn't get much sleep the night after his failed date with Emma and the encounter with the Emma from the future; he can't remember ever seeing her so rattled, and he's got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach because she rarely keeps things from him.

 _I don't want you to know yet,_ Emma had said, and the words keep repeating on a loop in his head, making it difficult to concentrate on much.

Regina notices and sends him on a tour of other galleries to scout out the competition, but even that isn't much help.

He worries about Emma and he worries about the future, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about either of those things.

Killian is the one who locks up the gallery because Regina is having dinner with Robin and he can't help feeling slightly envious of the ease with which other people date, and it seems like he's seeing happy couples everywhere he looks on his way home.

Waiting on Emma to come into his life again was agony, but having her close isn't all he had expected it to be because now that she's here, it seems like all he does is listen to the sound of her footsteps in the apartment next door.

After a lonely dinner of micro-waved lasagna and a football game Killian barely remembers afterwards he picks up his sketch pad and deliberately steers clear of drawing Emma, hoping to clear his head enough so that he can sleep.

The pencil slides easily over the paper, his grip sure only with a huge deal of effort and concentration, and Killian loses himself in the art, drawing a tree with a generous amount of branches and adding more and more details until it looks almost life-like.

It doesn't help him forget that Emma is stranded somewhere he doesn't have a hope of reaching.

 _June 14_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

It's been over a week and Emma still hasn't returned.

Killian had spent most of his life alone, and in the years without her he'd even become comfortable with that, but since she came back he constantly feels like a part of him is missing; it's not an exaggeration to say that he misses Emma more than he misses his hand, and it scares him so much that he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it.

The thump and a groan that signalize Emma's arrival startle Killian so badly that he messes up a drawing, which would annoy him in any other circumstances. Tonight, he doesn't care, and he shoots to his feet and leaves the pad lying on the floor where it had fallen; he's knocking on Emma's door two seconds later, ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he should give her some time to compose herself.

"It's open", comes a muffled response that gives him pause but he comes in anyway, finding Emma sitting on the couch with her knees up to her chin and a blanket carefully tucked around her.

"Are you alright, love?" Killian asks and approaches her slowly, giving her plenty of time to tell him to leave her alone, realizing as he comes closer that her cheeks are wet, silent tears falling from her eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine", Emma says, her voice small as she wipes at her eyes and watches him as he walks around the couch and sits down next to her.

"Do you want to tell me what's happened?" He asks and Emma shrugs, then carefully frees her arm from the confines of the blanket and slides her hand under the sleeve of his shirt until her palm rests against his forearm.

He covers her hand with his and brushes his thumb back and forth against her skin as he waits for her to speak.

"You just woke up from a coma", Emma finally says, scooting a little closer to him, which causes the blanket to slide off her shoulder and reveal more of her lovely body to his hungry eyes.

He ignores his libido and tells her that he had never gotten around to thanking her for that.

"I woke you up and then left you to cope with everything by yourself", Emma tells him and tips forward, her face pressing against his shoulder and both her arms wrapping around his arm.

"You couldn't help it, love. I never held it against you, and besides, the doctors would have kicked you out of my room anyway. They poked and prodded me for days afterwards, and by the time they were done you came back again", Killian says, his arm moving to embrace her on an instinct, both of them freezing when his stump presses against the small of her back.

"Do you remember what brought you back?" Emma asks, pulling slightly back to look at him, her eyes telling him that it's alright, and that her stiffness had nothing to do with his arm.

At least he thinks that's what her eyes are saying.

"Not really, but you told me about playing Billy Ray Cyrus so many times that sometimes I think I actually remember hearing it and waking up just to tell you to turn it off."

"Are you a music snob, Jones?" Emma asks, her chin resting on his shoulder and the blanket falling down her back, his arm the only thing stopping it from revealing her shapely backside.

"You should get dressed", Killian says, not quite able to hide the strain in his voice, Emma's eyes widening when she realizes the state of her undress.

"Nothing you haven't seen before, right?" She smirks and Killian swallows, cursing his sense of honor when she folds the blanket tightly around herself once more.

"I don't want to rush you, Emma", he tells her and she gives him a speculative look, then nods and tells him not to go anywhere.

"It's too late for that dinner, but I wouldn't mind going out for an ice-cream; it's too hot to sleep anyway", she says and gives him a playful wink over her shoulder, the blanket trailing after her as she retreats to her bedroom.

Killian adjusts his position on the couch, taps his fingers on his knee, then stands up and wanders into the kitchen, washing the few cups and plates that have been sitting in the sink for the past two weeks.

"You didn't have to do that", Emma says from the doorway just as he puts the last cup on a rack to dry and he gives her a bashful smile, telling her that it was no bother, his eyes sliding down her figure before snapping back to hers.

"Ready to go, then?" Emma asks with a knowing smile, undoubtedly well aware of the effect her skin-tight jeans and a blue blouse are having on him.

"After you", Killian says and follows her out of the apartment, debating on whether or not to tell her about the visit he'd had from her older version after she'd disappeared.

"I'm really sorry for standing you up the other night", Emma says and he waves her apology off because it wasn't something she had any control over.

"It couldn't be helped, and besides, I spent that evening with you anyway", he says and hastens to explain when she gives him a questioning look. "You came from the future."

"Did you take her out to dinner?" Emma asks and if Killian didn't know better he'd think she was jealous of herself.

"We stayed in. She was upset but she wouldn't tell me what about", Killian says and they walk in silence for a few beats, her hand brushing against his, which he takes as an invitation to grasp her fingers and entwine them with his.

"Did you guys have a sleepover?" Emma asks, and she sounds like she's doing her best to appear nonchalant, but Killian knows her well and it's clear as day that she really is jealous.

"No, Swan, we did not. She did kiss me before she disappeared", Killian says in the interest of full disclosure and Emma pulls her hand from his, lengthening her steps so that she reaches the ice-cream truck before him.

"Vanilla for me."

"Strawberry", Killian says just to get Emma to look at him, which she does with a suspicious look on her face.

"You want strawberry ice-cream?"

"Something wrong with strawberry?" Killian asks her with a smirk, not even bothering to hide his amusement because Emma is jealous of herself and it's the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

They get their ice-creams and walk across the street to a little park that's generously lighted and full of people even close to midnight on a weekday, picking out a bench a little way off from the others.

"Do you prefer her over me?" Emma asks him bluntly and Killian spreads his knees so that his dripping ice-cream doesn't end up on his jeans.

"No, love, I don't. Nor do I prefer you over her. You're the same to me", he tells her and she considers that while he attacks the rivulets of melted strawberry sliding down his cone.

"But we're not. Not really", Emma says and Killian's lips twist into a sad smile because she really doesn't get it.

He loves all the versions of her, and that's something her can't imagine ever changing.

"So you don't mind that I'm so clueless?" Emma asks him and he lifts his eyebrow, then licks the corner of his mouth which prompts her to do the same, and he is overcome with the urge to kiss her and show her what words cannot. "That I don't know things that I should."

"Swan… Our relationship might not be typical, but it's no less beautiful for it", Killian tells her and the way she looks at him can only be described as "with stars in her eyes".

"Can I ask you something?" Emma asks and looks away with a bashful smile, taking a lick of her ice-cream and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Go ahead", Killian says and finishes his ice-cream by the time she looks at him again, asking which ice-cream flavor he really prefers. "Vanilla."

"Then why didn't you ask for it?"

"Because I know that you won't be able to finish yours and that way I get both my second favorite and vanilla", Killian tells her and she hands over her cone with a resigned sigh.

"Who is your favorite painter?" Emma asks him next and Killian gives her a suspicious look because her question sounds too innocent for her not to be on a mission.

"Monet", he answers, but doesn't elaborate, holding her gaze as he licks along the edge of her cone.

Killian is never going to get tired of seeing Emma Swan blush.

"What do you like about Monet?"

"The colors", Killian says and starts talking about his paintings even though it causes his heart to contract painfully, his fingers practically itching to hold a brush again. "I used to think I would be the one to create something in the vein of impressionism with modern take on it, but then the accident happened and…"

"And you don't paint anymore", Emma finishes for him and now he's entirely sure that she is on a mission.

"We should get back", Killian says and stands up, offering her his arm and pulling her to her feet. "You should get some rest."

"I'm not tired", Emma tells him and tugs him in the direction opposite from their apartment building, promising to drop the art theme if he doesn't bring up going home for at least an hour.

"You are a stubborn lass."

"You like that about me", Emma says with a flirty smile and he falls under her spell easily, finishing her ice-cream and wiping his sticky fingers on his jeans before he takes her hand tells her that he likes everything about her. "Everything except the time-traveling, right?"

"Who said I don't like the time-traveling?"

"Oh come on."

"You would be a different person with different experiences, and there's a chance we never would have even met, so believe me, Swan; when I say I like everything about you, I really do mean everything", Killian tells her and Emma stops walking, looking up at him with an open, vulnerable expression that makes him want to hold on to her and never let her go.

A moment later she's pulling him close, their lips meeting and her free hand tangling in his hair; her scent surrounds him when he pins her against him with his handless arm and loses himself in the way she tastes and the feel of her curves molding against his sharp angles. Emma gives herself over with wild abandon, their tongues tangling and her teeth tugging on his bottom lip, blood rushing through his veins and ringing in his ears when she sighs into the kiss and wraps her arm tighter around him.

She makes him feel invincible, and he can only hope that he does the same for her.

Afterwards, they walk back home still holding hands, and he can't remember the last time he was so completely happy; judging by the way Emma's lips keep quirking into a smile, she feels exactly the same.

When they reach her door Emma gives Killian another kiss, this one gentler and sweeter than her first one, and he wonders briefly if she realizes that for him, their first kiss was seven years ago.

"Goodnight", she tells him and he finds that he's not ready to let her go yet, so he pulls her back and kisses her once more, his forehead resting against hers when he finally bids her goodnight too.

"I'll see you tomorrow after work", he says and Emma's smile falters because they both know that's not something they can count on.

"I'll see you", she tells him and goes into her apartment, the door closing behind her with a final-sounding click.

* * *

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	9. By Your Side

**More fluff coming your way, but don't worry, there will be plenty of angst to be had. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 _June 25_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

By some miracle, Emma still has her job, but she's working overtime every day she's not off traveling, which means she and Killian don't get a lot of chances to spend time together; still, he takes her out for lunch a few times and they have ice-cream almost every night, walking around their neighborhood with their fingers entwined and their feet moving in perfect sync.

Today Emma is perched up on the ladder putting the returned books back on the high shelf, humming to herself because the library is closed and the cleaning staff won't care if they hear her.

"Is that a Billy Ray Cyrus song?" Killian asks and Emma jumps, the ladder wobbling beneath her and her heart skipping a few beats because for a moment she's certain that she's going to fall, but Killian steadies the ladder, profusely apologizing for startling her. "I thought you heard me coming."

"How did you even get in?" She asks, compelled to whisper as she descends the ladder, moving carefully because she hadn't travelled in over a week and she'd like to keep it that way.

All the signs point at the fact that she's definitely going to disappear soon, but she deludes herself into thinking that her weakness might pass.

"The guard let me in. He used to work for us at the gallery", Killian says as she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to find her center even though that had never worked before. "Swan?"

"I'm sorry", she says because she feels herself fading, but then his hand grasps hers and she's anchored again, looking up at his blue, blue eyes and sighing with relief because she can stay here a little bit longer.

"Alright?"

"Alright", Emma confirms and gives Killian a quick kiss before she pulls him in the direction of the main door.

"I thought you were supposed to work late? I just came to keep you company", Killian says and Emma shakes her head, holding their joined hands up and asking him how he thinks she should do that with just one hand.

He lifts an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes because he had years to practice doing things one-handed while she doesn't intend to waste time doing the same when she can spend it with him.

They both know that he's going to have to let her go eventually and then she's going to be stuck in the past for God knows how long.

"Ice-cream?" Emma asks when they reach the street and it's Killian's turn to hold up their joined hands.

"Only if we share one", he says and Emma laughs, then notices a billboard for a movie and points at it with her free hand.

"Wanna see it with me?"

"Doesn't it make you travel?" Killian asks, a big grin spreading over his face when he realizes that it doesn't matter what she does now; she's not going to go anywhere as long as he's holding her hand.

"Let's go", Emma says and lengthens her steps, practically dragging him along in her haste to get to the cinema.

"Slow down, love. We've got time", he tells her and digs in his heels, pulling her against him and kissing her thoroughly in the middle of the sidewalk.

Emma smiles into the kiss and nibbles on his lip, the slowness of the kiss helping her feel less frantic.

The cinema is half-empty and nobody pays much attention to Emma as she fishes Killian's wallet out of his back pocket, laying it out on the counter as that she can take the money out and pay for their tickets, Killian's thumb rubbing comforting circles into the back of her hand until that task is accomplished.

"Why do you always leave your fake hand at home?" Emma asks him after they buy popcorn she puts into the crook of his left arm so that she can show their tickets at the entrance, her hand squeezing his when he doesn't answer right away. "Sorry. You don't have to answer me if you don't want to."

"I'm just figuring out how much I should tell you", he says as they look for their seats, and Emma grits her teeth because he should know by now that she hates it when he does this.

"Whatever", she says and takes the popcorn from him, digging into it as soon as they are both seated.

"We got into a fight over it", Killian tells her and she pretends to be interested in the commercials, ignoring the way he squeezes her hand to get her attention. "You said that I was using it in the future but I didn't feel like enduring the pain just to make myself look like everybody else."

"I was under the impression that it was supposed to make your life easier", Emma says grudgingly and pops another handful of popcorn into her mouth, then holds one up for Killian. "Wanna?"

"No, thank you", he says and she shrugs, eating the popcorn and taking another handful to wave it in front of Killian's mouth.

"You sure?"

"Swan-"

"You get so defensive whenever I try talking about your hand", she says and shushes him when the trailers come on.

"Maybe I just want to prove to you that we can still change things and affect the future", Killian says and Emma freezes because that is the last thing they should be doing. "Swan?"

"I tried to change the future once", she whispers, completely stunned that there is still something so important that he doesn't know about her.

It shouldn't surprise her, because this is something she had never shared with another soul.

"Once upon a time I found out that my boyfriend would leave me because he wouldn't be able to handle my condition, as you call it, so I figured I would just keep it a secret and everything would be okay", Emma says, staring at the movie screen and refusing to look at Killian who's no doubt watching her intently.

"What happened?"

"He was shot when he tried robbing a convenience store", Emma says, that old pain slicing through her because not even the way Neal was going to reject her had stopped her from loving him.

"That wasn't your fault, Emma."

"It's exactly my fault. If I had told him he would have broken up with me and he would be nowhere near that rifle", Emma says firmly because she'd been through this a million times in her head, and there is no reasonable explanation except the one that's true; the universe didn't like her trying to stop what was supposed to happen.

"If you had told him he might have left you and still ended up dying", Killian says and brings their joined hands up, gently turning her face toward his. "I promise you that it's not your fault."

What he's saying sounds perfectly logical, but Emma had learned a long time ago that logic and time-travel don't go together.

"Killian-"

"Just trust me", Killian says and kisses her sweetly, spinning her head and making her feel so alive, but no matter how much she wants to believe him, she simply can't.

She's already too attached to risk losing him.

"Maybe you're right", she says and Killian pulls back, thumbing at the dent in her chin and patiently waiting for her to gather the courage to say what she wants to say. "But would you mind wearing the hand now and again, just for my peace of mind?"

"If it's going to make you sleep easier, of course I will", Killian says and Emma thanks him, then lies her head on his shoulder and does her best to focus on the movie.

Her hand is almost numb by the time Killian walks her home afterwards, and his must be too, but he doesn't let go until she's back in her apartment and he has given her a wonderfully thorough kiss goodbye.

"Come back soon", he says and releases her hand, but she's gone before she can tell him that she will do her best.

 _June 30_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma stumbles up the stairs and beelines straight for Killian's door, knocking insistently and leaning her forehead against the door.

She might be a little drunk because she had snuck rum into Killian's hospital room and overestimated her alcohol resilience, but at least it had helped Killian with the pain, and she learned more about him, so it was far from a wasted evening.

"I need my key", Emma says when the door opens and gives Killian her his best smile, but he takes one look at her and pulls her into his apartment, leading her straight to his bedroom.

"You can sleep in my bed."

"Oooooh, nice", Emma murmurs and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his strong back and swaying a little on her feet; she hadn't seen him since they went to the movies together because she returned home and disappeared again within a couple of hours, and he was at work.

"What happened to not drinking while you're traveling?" Killian asks her sternly and dislodges her arms, pushing her jacket off her shoulders and throwing it across the dresser.

"You should ask yourself that, mister", Emma tells him and snuggles into his chest, rubbing her nose against the soft material of his t-shirt. "Why are your shirts always so much more comfortable than mine?"

"What do you mean I should ask myself?"

"Your stump was on fire and they decided to stop giving you the pain meds", Emma says distractedly and frowns when he gently pushes her away.

"You just snuck rum into my room?" Killian asks and Emma laughs, repeating "rum into room" under her breath as he kneels and unties the laces on her sneakers.

"These jeans are too tight", she says and fumbles with the button, smiling at the look on his face; his eyes are dark with desire but she's not even mildly worried that he might take advantage of her inebriated state; it might be the alcohol that's making her so sure of him, but it's more likely that she feels like she knows him good enough to know he would never hurt her.

"Let me", he murmurs and makes quick work of the zipper, her skin tingling when his hand brushes against her bare thigh, and suddenly she's so damn needy it startles her because Emma Swan is not usually like this.

Emma Swan keeps a tight rein on all her emotions and urges, but there's something about Killian, something about his sleep-mussed hair and his warmth that makes her want him right now.

He helps her step out of her jeans and she pushes up on her toes, falling against him and kissing him hard, their lips molding together in a sloppy way that still doesn't fail to ignite her further, the hard planes of his body fitting perfectly against her softness.

Killian kisses her back for just a few moments, his hips angling into hers and his arms closing around her waist like iron bands, but then he comes to his senses and pulls back, keeping her away with his hand and stump on her shoulders.

"You're drunk, Emma. You should sleep it off", he tells her and she pouts, but allows him to tuck her into his bed.

"Don't go", she whines when he steps away, evading her wandering arms and picking up her jeans from the floor, attentively turning them on the right side.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch", he says and Emma curls into a ball, tears prickling her eyes because no matter what he says, he doesn't like her as much as he does the other Emma.

"You were much more fun half an hour ago", Emma grumbles and squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to open them even when she feels him sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Ten minutes after you left I threw up all over myself and everybody was beyond pissed at me for a week", Killian tells her and brushes hair away from her forehead, his hand settling on her shoulder and rubbing her tense muscles.

"Sorry."

"Not your fault, love. I was having a grand time before that", he assures her and she melts a little, rolling on her back and sliding her fingers up and down his arm.

"There's no need for you to sleep on the couch", Emma tells him, and although she tries to sound reasonable, it comes out whiny.

"You're not going to give up until you get me into bed, are you, Swan?" Killian asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips, making it clear that his resolve is already broken.

"We're just gonna sleep", Emma assures him and scoots back, lifting the covers and waiting for him to get under them before she burrows against him. "You smell nice."

"Do I?" He murmurs and tucks her head under his chin, his arms wrapping around her even as he keeps some distance between their hips.

Sometimes she wishes he wasn't such a perfect gentleman.

"Really, really nice", Emma sighs and closes her eyes, her body relaxing and her thoughts scattering until the only thing that remains is the feeling of peace and contentment.

"Good night, love", Killian says and she feels his lips brush her forehead before she slips into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Review?**


	10. An End of An Era

**Some of you want tissue warnings, some would like not to know what's coming, so I'll just stay quiet and hope you enjoy. P.S. Thank you everybody who reviewed this story so far; it means a lot to me, and sorry for the delay.**

* * *

 _July 1_ _st_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian wakes up because Emma is muttering something in her sleep, burrowing against his chest and knocking her knee against his rather painfully.

"Easy there, love", he murmurs and brushes her tangled hair away from her face, sifting his fingers through the silky golden curtain until she quiets, and then holding her as the sun slowly rises.

The few times they had slept together in his hospital bed she was always gone by morning, so this is something new for him, and he cherishes every second.

"What time is it?" Emma groans half an hour later but doesn't even attempt opening her eyes, just wraps her arm tighter around Killian's waist and pushes her leg further between his, which makes him bite his lip and try to angle his hips further away from hers. "I hate rum."

"It's half past seven, and no you do not", Killian tells her and chuckles when she rolls on her back and throws her arm over her eyes.

"Why is it so bright?"

"Because I never invested in curtains."

"Why not?"

"Because I like waking with the sun", he says and Emma frowns, rubbing her eyes and finally looking at him.

"Hey."

"Hello."

"Maybe you were a sailor in the past life", she tells him and his eyebrow shoots up because this is not the first time Emma had said that.

"You have a thing for sailors, Swan?" He teases and she grins, then winces and presses the heel of her palm against her forehead.

"Maybe I do", she says and brushes her knuckles against his cheek. "Or pirates."

"Perhaps I should dress up as Captain Hook next Halloween", he tells her and when she laughs he thinks how he doesn't need anything more in life now that he's got her.

"Does that make me Wendy?" She asks him and pulls him down for a kiss before he can answer, both of them ignoring the shrill sound of his alarm clock until it becomes almost deafening.

"We should get up", he says, gently disentangling himself from her arms and reaching for his phone to turn the alarm off, gasping when Emma slides her hand underneath his shirt and applies her lips to his earlobe.

"Or maybe we stay in bed a while longer", Emma murmurs, her fingers pulling the string on Killian's pajama bottoms just as his cell phone goes off. "Don't even think about it."

"I have to, love. We have an exhibit opening tonight and it's all hands on deck. I've been meaning to invite you for weeks but every time you returned it slipped my mind", he tells her and gives her a quick kiss before rolling out of bed and answering the call. "Good mor- Yes, Regina, I did. I know. I did. He promised they would. Call him. Okay I'll call him."

Emma throws the covers off her, exposing the long, smooth length of her legs and tiny red panties that make his mouth go dry and his stomach muscles clench.

"Right away, I promise", he says and hangs up, then kneels on the bed and braces himself on his arm above Emma, studying her face and knowing already that he's going to regret leaving her like this. "I am so sorry, Swan. We've been working for this for months and-"

"I understand", Emma cuts him off and he notices her bra on the floor out of the corner of his eye, his eyes immediately zeroing on her chest. "I'll see you tonight?"

Killian swallows and leans down for another kiss but Emma presses her palm against his mouth and gives him an innocent look.

"You have to go."

"But-"

"They need you at the gallery", Emma says firmly and he grudgingly agrees, but still gives her another kiss before he gets up and starts pulling his shirt up over his head. "Now that's just not fair."

Killian throws his shirt at her and her smile turns wicked, her hands slowly lifting the hem of her own shirt, revealing her stomach inch by inch, but Killian backtracks into the hallway before she completely bares herself to him.

"Coward!"

"I'll pick you up at 7 p.m.", he says and goes into the bathroom to have one cold, albeit short shower.

* * *

The day rushes by in a frenzy of activity and Killian barely has time to wolf down a sandwich on his way home, so he doesn't worry about whether Emma is going to be there or not until he's already knocking on her door, frowning at the cuff of his only suit because it falls weirdly over his fake wrist.

He had debated on whether he should use the prosthetic hand or not for all of two minutes, then ended up putting it on because he just wants to make Emma happy.

"Coming", Emma calls from inside her apartment and Killian releases a breath because she's here after all, then gapes when he sees her in a pretty pink dress that makes her look like a princess, her hand holding her hair up in a ponytail. "You're early."

"Apologies, love", Killian says automatically because she is a vision in that dress, but there's also something nagging at him, an uneasy feeling of déjà vu that he can't quite place. "You look stunning."

"Thank you. And you'd give James Bond a run for his money", Emma tells him and turns around to show him that her dress is still opened. "Zip me up?"

Killian presses a kiss against the back of her neck before closing her dress while Emma secures her hair, leaving a few locks free around her face.

"Is it new?" He asks and smoothes his hand over the silky material on her waist, thinking how she is never more beautiful than when she blushes; her cheeks go delightfully pink and the long swoop of her eyelashes rest against them when she looks down.

"I wanted tonight to be special", she says, her eyes going wide when she notices his fake hand. "You put it on."

When she reaches out to touch it, Killian's first instinct is to pull back, and he suddenly remembers the moment of the accident, turning the wheel too fast and hearing the metal of his car scream in protest as it tumbles down the side of a steep ditch.

"Hey, it's alright", Emma says and holds her hands up, watching him with concern the way she hadn't done since his first weeks in the hospital.

"I don't know what came over me", Killian tells her and holds out his hand, tipping his head in a motion of invitation because he wants them to get over this and just get going.

"Does it hurt?" Emma asks as she traces her fingertips over the stiff joints, her eyes lifting to his and stopping him from lying.

"Not exactly. It's definitely not pleasant", he says truthfully and shakes his head when Emma opens her mouth to speak. "Tonight is a special occasion, and it's worth it."

"They talked about the exhibit on the radio."

"Not the exhibit, love. Our first date", he tells her and Emma blinks in surprise, then stands up on tiptoes and kisses him so hard he stumbles back, her lithe body pressing against his as he leans against the wall.

"Let's go", Emma says a few moments later, carefully straightens his tie and leads him out her apartment, slamming the door behind them and leaving him in no doubt where she intends to spend the night.

* * *

The exhibit is clearly a success but Killian bashfully declines any credit, pointing the occasional journalist in Regina's direction because he's too busy watching Emma admire the paintings.

"I think this one is my favorite", she tells him and leans against his side when he twines his arm around her slim waist, his eyes caressing her profile as she studies a watercolor of the ocean and a lonely ship sailing over it.

"Why that particular one?" Killian asks and Emma tilts her head to the side, then walks closer to the painting and leans forward until her nose is practically touching the canvas.

"There's somebody on the ship."

"Is there?" Killian queries although he knows already that indeed there is.

"Can't you see him?" Emma asks and glances at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing when she notices the amused look on his face. "What?"

"You're the only one who noticed", Killian tells her and she looks between him and the painting, an awed look stealing over her face when she figures it out.

"You painted this", she says, completely sure of her assessment even though she had never seen any of his paintings before. "When?"

"Before", he says softly and her face falls a little, but she recovers quickly and beams at him, then turns back to the painting to study it some more.

"It is so beautiful."

"We were one short and Regina managed to convince me to let her use mine", Killian says and waits for Emma's disdain, but she does her best to hide it, smiling and telling him that she's glad he had agreed.

"Can I see the rest of them?" Emma asks and he swallows because he can't believe he didn't see this coming.

"Swan…"

"Did Regina see them?" Emma wonders and he realizes that there's no way of refusing her request without causing her pain.

"They are stored in the gallery's vault", Killian tells her the truth and Emma nods to herself, then wanders off, making another round around the gallery and deliberately avoiding his gaze that follows her around.

The message is clear but Killian postpones the inevitable, talking to a few people and accepting Robin's drink offer before he goes to find Emma again.

"I was afraid you left without me", he says and she starts a little, then shrugs and takes a sip from her champagne glass.

"You don't have to show me the paintings."

"I want to show you the paintings", he says because he really does.

He's just not too keen on the pity that he's undoubtedly going to see in her eyes afterwards.

"You must know about my ability to tell when people are lying to me", Emma tells him mildly and he takes a calming breath, then apologizes and offers her his hand.

"Come with me."

"Killian-"

"Just come", he says firmly and Emma puts her hand in his and follows him through the gallery and into the back rooms, where he punches in the code slowly because it feels awkward doing it with his fake index finger.

The latch releases and Killian leans against the metal of the door with his shoulder, his grip on Emma's hand tightening when she tries to pull away.

"What are you afraid of?" She asks him softly and lies her palm against his chest to stop him from going in.

"Those paintings were painted by a man that I am not anymore", he says and studiously avoids her eyes even though he feels lighter now for having said what was weighing on him for so long.

"That is not true", Emma says and cups his face in her hand, making him look at her, the intensity of her green gaze pinning him in place and making him listen to what she has to say. "Think about it, Killian. If I am both the future and the past Emma to you, then you are still the Killian that had painted those paintings to me."

"Except I have met Emma from the future. You have never met Killian from the past", he says and she shakes her head, her thumb sliding against his scruff in a soothing motion as she picks her next words carefully.

"He's still inside you, Killian. You just have to decide to let him show", Emma says and Killian closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers and trying to gather the courage to explain why he can't. "Show me the paintings."

"Alright", Killian says and leads her into the vault, the two of them zig-zagging around the canvases until they reach a stack of them leaning against the wall, each one wrapped in a white cloth.

Emma crouches in front of the first one and tugs on the cloth, revealing the painting of the harbor he'd done while he was still in school.

"Do you wanna know what I see?" Emma asks and pulls on his hand to make him kneel next to her, and he can't believe how eager he suddenly is to see his painting through her eyes.

"Yes."

"I see somebody who loves the sea, somebody who has a great eye for color, somebody who had always wanted to have a ship", Emma says and reveals another painting, then another and turns to look at him over her shoulder. "Somebody who prefers early morning to night. Somebody who is passionate and who loves ardently and forever."

"You can see all that in my paintings?" Killian asks her softly and Emma nods, her fingers tangling in his hair when she leans close and kisses his cheek.

"I do. And all that is still true", she tells him, and it's only when he looks down that he realizes that she's holding his fake hand. "You still love the sea and you still prefer morning to night, and I am absolutely sure that you would be able to relearn painting again the way you did drawing."

"You have an awful lot of faith in me, Emma", he says and Emma shrugs, telling him that he had never given her a reason to doubt him. "I will do my best to keep it that way."

"Good", Emma says and they spend a while longer looking at paintings, and when they return to the gallery most of the guests have left, so Regina dismisses him in her usual regal way that makes Emma roll her eyes before she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

He follows her fifteen minutes later and finds her pretty dress on the floor, his heart sinking because God only knows where she'd gone.

The uneasy feeling returns, but he ignores it, carefully folding the dress and picking up Emma's shoes and underwear before he leaves the gallery through the back door without informing anybody of his departure.

* * *

 **Review?**


	11. Fate or Chance

**This chapter should probably have a tissue warning, but some things are going to be clearer because of it, so I hope you won't yell at me too much after you're done with reading. Thank you for going on this journey with me, and enjoy!  
**

* * *

 _August 15_ _th_ _2004\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 24)_

Emma comes to in the middle of the road, taking a few deep breaths and slowly getting to her feet, looking around and trying to determine where she is.

The sky is full of stars and the streetlights are few and far between; she's pretty sure that there are no houses anywhere near where she is.

"This is gonna be tricky", she says to herself and makes a move to get off the road when a car's headlights come around the bend, blinding her and making her freeze in place.

Even though she can't see the driver who turns the wheel sharply to avoid hitting her, as the wind caused by a car sailing past her ruffles her hair, Emma somehow knows exactly who's driving.

A scream tears from her throat when the car runs off the road, tumbling into a ditch with an awful sound before it finally settles against a tree trunk half-way to the bottom.

"Oh no, please, please not him", Emma mutters and breaks into a run, feeling the pebbles and sharp grass bite the soles of her feet and hardly feeling any pain.

She slides down to the car on her bare bottom, pausing only long enough to take a hoodie hanging out from the open trunk and put it on before she climbs around the car, praying softly that she doesn't find Killian inside.

A sob escapes her when she looks in and finds him slumped against the driver's door, looking younger than she had ever seen him before, half his face covered in blood from a gash in his forehead.

"Killian", she chokes and struggles to open the door but it won't give, so she ends up crawling through the trunk and across the back seats before she kneels on the passenger seat and reaches out a trembling hand to wipe at Killian's cheek.

A part of her wants to believe that this is just a nightmare, but it doesn't take her long to establish that his left leg is broken and that his hand is somehow stuck between the metal of his seat and the door that is wedged against an ancient looking tree, which means that there is no way to get him out of the car without cutting it off.

"No, no, no, please", she repeats over and over again but the longer she stays here falling apart, the greater the chance that Killian won't make it because his pulse is getting more thready every time she checks, and Emma is about to start climbing back out when Killian's eyes open, looking so very blue even in the dim overhead light.

"Am I dead?" He asks in a conversational tone that makes Emma even more panicky than before.

"You're not. I'm going to get help", she says and lays her hands on his shoulders, stopping him from struggling because he'll only end up hurting himself more.

"My hand is stuck", he groans and Emma bites the inside of her mouth hard enough to draw blood.

"You have to stay still."

"I'm tired", he says more to himself than to her and Emma blinks back tears, trying to drown out the voice that keeps screaming in her head, telling her that she had done this, that she was the one who had hurt him a thousand times more than anybody else ever had.

She is the one who destroyed the man that she is supposed to love someday soon, the man who she is already in love with.

"You have to stay awake", she whispers, then repeats it loudly, her palms cupping his clean-shaven cheeks and shaking him gently until he opens his eyes again. "Please stay awake."

"Are you an angel?" He asks her, and even though his gaze is on her, she doesn't think he even sees her, and for a moment she's glad until she remembers that he won't have any recollection of this night.

"I'm someone who loves you", she tells him, and she realizes that this is the tipping point, this is the moment she becomes Killian's Emma, the Emma he had fallen in love with.

Her future starts now, and Killian is the one paying for it.

"Hold on", Emma whispers and presses a kiss to his cheek, the metallic taste of blood on her lips impossible to ignore as she climbs out of the gnarled car and runs back up the ditch in hopes of getting help as quickly as possible.

Even knowing what the future holds, Emma can't help being afraid so she starts running the second she reaches the road, Killian's pain-filled eyes haunting her and the weight of her guilt getting harder to bear with every minute that passes.

Emma swallows her tears and runs faster.

* * *

Half an hour later Emma is hiding in the bushes watching the firefighters cut the passenger door from Killian's car with both her hands pressed to her mouth. She had found help in the first house she had come across where an old lady who didn't seem all there let her use the phone and even gave her dusty but otherwise clean sneakers and faded gray sweatpants to wear before Emma had gone back to where she had left Killian.

When she got to the ditch she found three police cruisers, an ambulance and a fire truck already there, her 911 call obviously mobilizing them quickly; she stayed out of sight, huddling in the dark and wiping her eyes to clear her vision because she couldn't seem to stop crying.

The night is warm but she's shaking, her heart slamming against her ribcage as the firefighters work.

Still, it is not until the paramedics come down to the car that Emma gives up hope for this night ending differently than expected, her knees buckling because she knows what's about to happen.

It's a blessing that she's too far away to hear the sound of a saw cutting bone, but Killian's muted scream still reaches her ears and she plops down on the wet ground because her head is spinning and she feels like she's going to be sick.

In that moment, she wishes Killian had remembered her the first time she visited him in the hospital, because if he had, she might have had a chance at altering the course of this night.

She might have stepped off the road quicker and saved him so much pain even at the price of their relationship.

The paramedics get Killian out of the car what feels like an eternity later and as two burly firefighters carry him up the ditch Emma forces herself to look at the damage she had inflicted on the man that had come to mean more to her than any other person ever did before.

Emma had endured a lot of pain during her travels, both physical and emotional, but nothing had ever hurt her more than seeing Killian suffering like this and knowing that it's all because of her.

One of the police cruisers peels off the shoulder and the flashing lights make Emma's head spin, her nails digging into her palms because she doesn't want to go back, she doesn't want to leave Killian behind like this.

But nobody had ever asked her what she wanted, the universe least of all.

 _July 7_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28)_

One of the difficulties of being a time-traveler is the return trip, but this time is worse because Emma appears in the bathroom stall of Killian's workplace, and she thanks God for the small blessing of it being empty.

Emma feels completely drained, so utterly tired that she has some difficulty getting to her feet, but the very thought of resting is foreign to her because Killian is being driven to the hospital right now and her insides feel like a ton of rocks.

And yet, the longer she stays here, the greater the chance that she's going to run into Killian, so she wipes her eyes and carefully opens the door of the stall, her eyes spilling when she notices a neat stack of clothes on a tasteful table that had held a flower arrangement the last time Emma had come in here.

If she takes the clothes Killian will know what she had returned, but she doesn't have any other alternatives considering the place she'd found herself in, so Emma dashes across the bathroom, picks up the clothes and returns into the stall to dress, having to stop every few moments to wipe her eyes.

She is trying to pull herself together but it's just impossible when all she wants is Killian's arms around her, but as soon as she imagines how it would feel to rest her weary head on his shoulder she remembers where the past Killian is right now and her face crumples, her palm pressing against her mouth to keep her sobs quiet.

Luckily, the bathroom opens to a hallway that leads to the back door and Emma is outside without seeing anybody, and as soon as she exits the alley behind the gallery she takes off at a run and doesn't stop until she reaches the library.

"How nice of you to join us", Mr. Gold says as she slides inside and Belle stifles a laugh behind her hand, but neither of them seem to care much about her mumbled apology because they are too busy flirting with each other.

Emma goes deeper into the library and finds Elsa arranging the History books, and judging by the state of the shelves she's in dire need of assistance.

"What happened?" Elsa asks and starts descending the ladder after just one look at Emma's face, and it's all it takes for Emma to completely fall apart.

A sob echoes among the bookshelves and Elsa's arms wrap around Emma's shaking shoulders, the dam inside her breaking completely and letting out an ocean of sadness that threatens to drown them both.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay", Elsa murmurs, hugging her closely and rocking her from side to side, but nothing she says helps because she doesn't know what Emma had done.

"It was my fault", Emma chokes out, needing Elsa to know, needing to see her reaction because she knows that she's going to have to tell Killian too.

They are too entwined and he reads her too well for her to be able to keep this from him.

"What was?"

"Killian's accident."

"I don't-", Elsa trails off abruptly, and Emma knows that she had made the connection between Killian's missing hand and what Emma is saying.

"Oh God."

"Wait, wait. Are you sure it's your fault? Wasn't he in a car accident? You don't even have a driver's license."

"I wasn't driving", Emma hiccups, her throat feeling like sandpaper as tears keep rolling down her cheeks.

"You have to calm down", Elsa tells her and takes her by the shoulders, then hugs her close again. "Just breathe, Emma. Just breathe."

Emma clings to her friend and tries not to think about anything at all, but every time she closes her eyes she sees Killian's pale face, sees the blood and hears his scream, and it feels like her tears are never going to stop.

She just wants to wake up.

"Come with me", Elsa says and leads her into the rec room, where he holds her until Emma manages to get her emotions under control. "Tell me everything."

Emma speaks slowly because each word tastes like ashes in her mouth, and Elsa's eyes grow as wide as saucers, but she takes Emma's hand in hers and holds on even after she learns what her best friend had done.

"The first thing you need to accept is that it was just an accident."

"Do you think Killian is going to accept that?" Emma asks her sharply and jumps to her feet, pacing in front of the table and chewing on her lip. "If it was an accident then the universe wanted it to happen, and fate kept sending me back in time to keep Killian company in the hospital, preventing him from remembering that I was the one who put him there in the first place."

"Emma, you can't-"

"He's never going to forgive me."

"You don't know that."

"I'm the reason he lost his hand! I'm the reason he stopped painting! I'm the reason he spends half his life waiting!" Emma exclaims and angrily wipes at her wet cheeks. "Why can't I stop crying?"

"You need to get some sleep", Elsa says calmly and gets her keys from her purse. "Go to my apartment, eat something and go to bed."

"I don't want to sleep."

"Trust me, Emma. You'll feel better if you do", Elsa says and Emma takes the keys, relieved that she doesn't have to go home and risk running into Killian.

"What about Gold?"

"Go out the back. I'll tell him you have food poisoning."

"Thanks", Emma whispers and gives Elsa another hug, leaving before she can fall apart again.

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	12. Forgiveness

**I know it hurts, but there will still be a happy ending. I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for all the nice things you've been saying about this story!  
**

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 _July 7_ _th_ _2012\. (Killian is 32)_

Killian peeks in the bathroom on his way home and discovers that the clothes he had left for Emma are gone, and he grins, walking home twice as fast as he usually does because he's looking forward to telling Emma that he had purchased a new package of watercolors; it might not seem like much, but he knows Emma will recognize it as progress.

Since he doesn't know when did Emma get back he knocks on her door softly lest he wake her up, and although he's disappointed when nobody answers, he'd rather wait to see her a while longer than disturb her sleep.

In the past few months Killian had discovered that time passes the slowest when Emma is traveling, and the knowledge that she's back in the present makes him relax, but he still has a couple of hours to kill so he does the laundry and starts cooking dinner, listening to the silence of Emma's apartment and waiting for the telltale sound of her padding across the floor in her socks.

When 8 p.m. rolls around and she doesn't show up Killian takes her key and lets himself in, turning in a circle with a frown etched on his forehead because it doesn't look like Emma had even been here; her phone is sitting on the coffee table and half of her make-up bag is spilled over her bed, but her apartment feels stuffy and so utterly empty without her.

He returns to his apartment and texts Elsa to check if Emma had gone to the library, and he stares at the screen waiting for an answer even as the chill of premonition runs down his spine because he should've known something was wrong when Emma hadn't come into the gallery to tell him she's back.

 _She's here with me_ , comes Elsa's reply, and there's a weight of unspoken words in that simple message that makes Killian get to his feet and shrug on his jacket.

 _I'm coming over_ , he texts but the answering message stops him in his tracks.

 _Don't. She's sorry but she can't see you tonight._

Killian dials Elsa's number but nobody answers, and he sinks heavily on the edge of his couch, staring at his phone and willing it to ring because all this is scaring him out quite a lot.

 _Is Emma alright?_

Minutes pass and then Elsa starts typing, stops and starts a few times more before she sends the reply.

 _Physically she's fine. She'll talk to you when she's ready._

Killian scowls at his phone and resists the urge to throw it against the wall, his thumb hovering over the keyboard because he wants to ask more questions, wants to convince Emma to come home, but doesn't know how to do it over a text.

 _Tell her I miss her._

This time it takes Elsa about ten minutes to answer, and when she does it's just two letters that make Killian cold and even more worried than he was before.

 _OK._

 _July 8_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian spends a sleepless night tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what went wrong, going over all his encounters with Emma from before and ending up with a headache for his efforts.

Even though his first instinct is to stay home and wait for Emma to come back, he's got a feeling she'll go straight to the library so he heads to the gallery, floating around and not getting anything done until Regina notices and gives him a stern lecture that shakes him a little but doesn't make it any easier to focus.

When he returns home Emma is still not here, and he knocks about his apartment until he hears her steps in the hallway; she hesitates in front of his door and shuffles back and forth for ten minutes before she musters up the courage to knock.

Killian opens the door a moment later, his eyes roaming over her figure before settling on her red-rimmed eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest because he had never seen her looking more bereft.

"Swan", he says and reaches out his hand to lay it on her shoulder but she steps around him and into the apartment, her arms tightly wrapped around her center.

"Please don't touch me."

"Alright", Killian says slowly and follows her into the living room, but she backtracks until she's almost pressed against the window. "Emma. What did I do?"

Her face crumples and she presses her hand against her mouth, squeezing her eyes closed and looking like she's going to fall apart any moment now.

"You didn't do anything", she chokes out and he doesn't like the way she stresses the word _you_ , and what he likes even less is the way she's shaking, her hair falling across her face because her head is ducked and her shoulders are slumped under the weight of whatever it is that's happened while she'd been away.

Killian reacts on an instinct and closes the distance between them, wrapping her up in his arms gently but firmly; he ignores her weak protests and attempts to push him away because it's clear that she just needs to be held.

"Shhh, it's alright", he murmurs and a wrecked sob escapes her, her body melting into his and her hands bunching the material of his shirt as he rocks her from side to side.

"I am so sorry", she says against his shoulder and wraps her arms around his waist so tightly it's almost painful, her tears wetting his shirt and seeping into his skin, his apprehension rising with every passing minute.

"Emma, please. Tell me what's wrong", he murmurs and rubs her back until she quiets, then walks back until his legs hit the couch and he sinks down with her straddling his lap; she's still wrapped around him, but she's hiding her face hidden against his neck, behind a curtain of tangled golden hair.

"I don't want to lose you", she says, her voice breaking and making his heart ache because he can't imagine anything that would make him fall out of love with her.

"You won't, love. Whatever has happened, it won't affect how I feel about you", he whispers against her ear and kisses her temple, then reaches behind his back and gently pries her arms from around him.

Emma looks more bewildered than he'd ever seen her and he'd seen her at the end of her rope lots of times; he'd seen her tired and cold and sick, he'd seen her on the verge of passing out from hunger, but he had never seen her looking so hopeless.

"It's my fault."

"What's your fault?" He asks with a shake of his head because she's not making any sense, and Emma wipes her cheeks and stares at the ceiling for a long time, then takes a deep breath and finally meets his eyes.

"You don't remember but it was my fault", Emma whispers, her teeth worrying her bottom lip and her chin trembling when he cups her cheek in his hand and pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching.

"What happened, love? You can tell me anything", he says, hoping to God that he's not overestimating his ability to handle whatever it is that's tearing her apart.

"For me, your accident happened yesterday", Emma whispers and for a moment her words don't really register, the silence stretching as he tries to process what he had just heard.

"I don't understand."

"It was so dark, and I appeared in the middle of the road… I looked around, and a moment later you came around the bend… I couldn't move so you swerved to avoid hitting me and ended up in a ditch", Emma explains and it feels like ice water is being poured over him with every word she says.

"No. No, Emma, it was somebody else having an accident", he says, his fingers pushing her hair away from her face as he grasps at straws because this cannot be true.

He simply can't believe that the woman he loves is responsible for so much misery in his life.

"It was you", Emma whispers, her eyes filling again. "I went down the ditch and you were in the car, stuck…"

She trails off and squeezes his shoulders, holding onto him as well as she can.

"I held you. You were afraid but I had to leave you to go call 911", she says and sits on his lap unmoving, biting her lip and lightly running her thumbs back and forth over his biceps. "I was twenty yards away when they freed you from the car."

Her eyes flicker down to his stump and Killian feels like a marionette who just had its strings cut, barely able to feel the moisture of her tears sliding against his index finger and into his palm.

"I am so sorry", she whispers and looks at him pleadingly, wordlessly asking him for absolution he is too stunned to give.

Killian sits there completely still because he knows that the second he moves he is going to feel the acid of resentment burn through him, he is going to get angry at the universe and angry at her even though it's clear that what happened to him isn't her fault.

"Killian."

His name on her pale lips is nothing but a breath of air, her hands sliding down his arms in a soothing motion that has exactly the opposite effect; the second her fingertips touch the scars on his stump the spell he'd been under is broken and the numbness he had felt just moments ago turns into red hot rage.

"Don't", he says, his voice shaking, but his hand is steady when he shifts her off him and puts distance between them. "I had always blamed myself for that accident, thinking I had fallen asleep at the wheel…."

Emma sits on the couch looking at him with apprehension as he paces in front of the coffee table, his fingers digging into his stump mercilessly as he tries to massage the deep-rooted ache away.

He had saved her life and he'd been paying for it ever since.

"Why didn't you move off the road? Why didn't you-", his voice breaks and he feels like his chest is being squeezed in a vice as the day he woke up in the hospital comes rushing back; he's too rattled to push the memories away, to fight the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he had first experienced when he looked down his body and realized that his left hand was gone.

"I'm sorry", Emma apologizes again, sounding like a broken toy and making him feel bad for feeling the way he does, but then something occurs to him and he feels even worse.

"All those times you came to visit me… you knew what you did and you never said anything", he tells her and Emma starts shaking her head, then ducks her head and says nothing as tears steadily drip on her thighs. "You tricked me."

"I didn't know", Emma snaps, her eyes blazing when she jumps to her feet and pushes her hair away from her face. "This is the first time I'm seeing you since the accident."

"But now you do know, and next time you go back in time you will waltz into my room and not say a bloody thing!"

"You don't know that!"

"I know you! I know how much you're afraid of changing anything out of fear of making things worse, so don't sit there trying to convince me otherwise."

"That might have been true before yesterday, but it's not anymore", Emma jumps to her feet and comes around the coffee table, stopping just short of touching him for which he's glad because he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it. "How about I give you a choice, Killian? Do you want me to tell you everything next time I go back in time? Do you want me to avoid you altogether? Just tell me what you want and I'll respect your decision because I don't know what to do anymore."

"You keep saying that nothing is ever your choice", he says softly and her chin trembles, her eyes begging him for something he cannot give.

"It's time I accept that it's not, but it doesn't mean your choice needs to be taken away too", she says and chokes back a sob, making him feel an almost physical pain in his heart because he doesn't know how to fix this, doesn't know how to forgive her when the memories of her in his hospital room sting. "What do you want, Killian?"

"What I want, Swan, I can't ever get back", he tells her and the light goes out in her eyes, making him feel like he's starting into a lonely abyss.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can say."

"I know you are. And I know it wasn't your fault, but I can't be around you right now", Killian tells her and he can practically see the shards of her heart falling on the floor at his feet.

Emma doesn't say anything, just turns around and walks away as slowly as if she's a hundred years old, and, who knows? Due of all the traveling she'd been doing, she might actually be.

Killian watches her go, and even though he's well aware of the fact that she's taking his heart with her he doesn't do a single thing to stop her from exiting his apartment.

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	13. Solace

**As always, thank you for reading and letting me know what you like in this story; I know it hurts, but things will get better. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!  
**

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 _July 12_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28)_

Emma's cell phone won't stop ringing but she's underneath the covers, existing in a bubble separated from the rest of the world, trying to make herself disappear because she just wants to run, wants to be elsewhere in hopes of having something else to focus on instead of what she had done to Killian and how he had taken it.

Since she had returned from his apartment Emma had stayed in bed except for bathroom breaks and occasional snack when her stomach would start complaining too loudly, but even though she didn't see Killian since he had told her that he can't be around her, she's well aware of his presence.

The wall between their apartments is paper thin, and his footsteps echo in her head, her heart clenching as she listens to him make breakfast because she can picture every move he makes; he takes the tea container and holds it against his chest with his left arm so that he can open the lid before setting both on the counter next to an already waiting cup, then he spoons out a careful measure into the colander and pours the water over it leaving it to soak while he cooks.

Emma had seen him do it enough times to know that while his missing hand doesn't slow him down much, it slows him down some, and although she had never given it much thought before, now that she knows it's her fault, it's all she can think about.

She can't bring herself to think about his art, about the pretty colors that he lost when he made the switch from painting to drawing, pushing those thoughts away as well as she can even though they always hover in her subconscious.

When she sleeps, it's in short bursts that end with her hearing Killian scream the way he had as they were amputating his hand in order to free him from the car.

Emma's phone goes off again and she groans, emerging from under the covers just long enough to glance at the screen, hoping against hope that it's Killian worrying about her.

The disappointment is sharp and swift, but Emma picks up anyway because Elsa deserves to know that she's not traveling again, just hiding from the world and trying to deal with the guilt and the sting of Killian's subsequent rejection.

"Hey", Emma says, her voice raspy with misuse, and Elsa's relieved sigh presses on Emma's chest because she must've been worried and Emma hadn't spared her much though, too focused as she'd been on Killian and her guilt.

"Killian said you were home but you weren't answering and I was freaking out-"

"Killian said? You talked to him?"

"We texted", Elsa says sheepishly and Emma bites her lip, wanting to ask how he is and feeling like she doesn't have the right to. "I was worried when you didn't call me back since you rarely travel within a week of returning and I asked him if he broke up with you."

"Oh God", Emma gasps and feels a tear rolling down her cheek and into her hair, proving that she still has some to shed. "What did he say?"

"He said he hasn't seen you in a few days but he could hear you moving in your apartment", Elsa tells her softly, as if she's trying to minimize the impact of her words, but Emma had expected much worse so all her friend gives her is hope that not everything is lost.

Still, Killian had said that he can't be around her, and she's going to respect that; he needs time to come to terms with her role in the accident that took his hand.

"You need to get out of your apartment."

"I know."

"Gold is on the verge of firing you."

"He's always on the verge of firing me."

"How long do you intend to stay in your room?"

"I just found out four days ago that I'm responsible for my boyfriend's accident; I think I'm entitled to some mourning."

"You're also the one who helped him cope with it", Elsa points out but Emma doesn't think she deserves to be comforted.

"It wasn't me, Elsa. It was the future Emma, and he might still tell me that he doesn't want me there."

"He's not gonna do that", Elsa says calmly and Emma wishes she could be as confident.

"I'm not so sure."

"He told me to call him if you don't emerge from your apartment by the end of the week", Elsa says and Emma sits up in bed, then lies back down because even if he wanted to see her, she doesn't think she can bear seeing him.

Her guilt is making her chest feel too tight and it would be even worse to see all the things he has to do differently to compensate for his missing hand.

"I'll come in tomorrow", Emma says, well aware of the fact that she can't afford losing her job no matter how miserable she feels. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"It will be okay", Elsa tells her, but it sounds hollow and Emma does not believe her.

Half an hour later a car alarm goes off and Emma feels nothing but relief when the time pulls her away.

If she's lucky, she might go somewhere where Killian is not.

 _July 22_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28)_

Emma opens her eyes and wipes her tears away, goes to take a shower and cries some more, feeling so very tired and longing to feel Killian's arms around her again even though she was just with him; it was the night they were supposed to go on a date, when he still didn't know what she had done, and she took his comfort eagerly, the knowledge that it might be the last time she's allowed to touch him making her cling to him even harder.

The bus ride to the library takes forever and Emma's stomach is in knots when she walks in, the bad feeling worsening when she sees Gold's face.

"Well, well. Look who it is", he says mockingly and she knows that there is no coming back from this.

"I know I've been away-"

"Been away? You haven't shown up for work in a month", Gold says and shakes his head as if terribly disappointed with her behavior.

"I'm sorry. It was out of my control", Emma tells him even though it's clear that he's past her apologies.

"You've disappointed me, Miss Swan."

"So I'm fired?" Emma asks because she's not in the mood to get trashed if the outcome is going to be the same.

"I'm afraid so", Gold says and Emma nods tightly, thanking him for the opportunity and leaving the library before Belle can even step around the front desk to tell her goodbye.

As soon as she descends the steps leading down from the big oak door Emma breaks into a run, and she doesn't stop until she's completely breathless.

There's a convenient park bench close by and it's only as she sinks down on it that Emma realizes it's the one she had often sat on with Killian during their evening ice-cream runs, and the weight of all that has happened doubles her over, her chest heaving because she can't seem to get breath into her lungs.

"Oh God, Emma", Elsa says and sits on the bench next to her, pulling her into an upright position and hugging her close, telling her over and over again that everything is going to be okay.

"I got fired."

"I know, Emma, but-"

"Now I'm gonna have to change jobs every other week", Emma sobs against her friend's shoulder, and no matter how hard she tries to get herself under control, she simply can't.

Emma never had much in her life, and then she somehow managed to find a good job, her first real friend and Killian, just to lose two out of three in a matter of days.

"Everything is falling apart", she whispers more to herself than to Elsa, and her guilt only grows when Elsa tells her that she's not alone.

"Killian needs time to think about what happened, but I'm sure he'll forgive you eventually", Elsa says and Emma wishes she could be as optimistic, but she feels like she'd fallen into a dark hole and not even Killian's absolution will do much to help her climb out.

"I don't know about that. He suffered so much, and it was because of me. Because I'm a freak", Emma says bitterly and pulls away, angrily wiping her cheeks dry.

"You are not a freak", Elsa tells her firmly and squeezes her hand, then tells her that she has to go back.

"Yeah, you should", Emma says and assures Elsa that she'll be okay, even managing a smile for her friend's benefit.

As soon as she's alone again Emma finds the closest video store and stares at the TVs in the window until she feels that odd feeling inside that signalizes that she's about to travel, and she barely makes it into the back alley before she gets misplaced in time again.

 _May 14_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 33)_

The first thing Emma sees when she opens her eyes is a billboard for the new Star Trek movie, which means that she traveled to the future instead of the past.

Her forays in that direction are rare and always make her feel unsettled because she spends her time avoiding the people and places she knows, afraid to learn something that would make her want to change what shouldn't be changed.

Still, this time she's glad to be here, and as soon as she steals some clothes and gets something to eat Emma goes to the gallery, determined to find out what her future with Killian holds even though she knows it might not be the wisest course of action.

When Emma marches in Regina barely spares her a glance, just tilts her head toward the back room, and Emma instantly feels lighter because she's obviously still in Killian's life, but her steps still falter once she reaches the office.

Before she can muster up the courage to knock the door opens and Killian almost bowls her over, the stack of papers he'd been carrying under his arm scattering all over the floor.

"Swan! Is everything alright?!" He exclaims and gives her a thorough once over, both his real and fake hand settling on her waist, his concerned expression clearing a moment later. "Hello, love."

"I'm from the past", Emma tells him, her arms wrapping loosely around his waist just in case she'd misinterpreted his warm greeting.

"So I've gathered", he says and studies her carefully, his hand rising to cup her cheek. "Let me guess… last summer?"

"Killian", she says and embraces his tightly, her nose pressing against his neck when her body sags with relief.

"We are alright, love. Everything is alright", he tells her and rubs soothing circles on her back as she inhales his scent and tries to get her racing heart under control.

Killian notices, and he pushes her away gently, his palm pressing against her chest and his kind, loving eyes holding her in place as he talks to her in soft tones until her heart rate returns to normal.

Once he's sure that she won't hyperventilate and pass out, Killian leads her into the tiny office and sits her on the only chair, pours her a glass of water and leans against the desk, watching her as she drinks.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do", Emma says and he ducks his head and smiles, dimples flashing in his cheeks when he tells her that she doesn't have to do anything. "What do you mean?"

"I'm already looking for you back in your time", Killian tells her and Emma is stunned to learn that she won't have to jump through hoops to get him back.

Not that she would if he asked that of her.

"When you told me what had happened, I was hurt and confused. I am sorry it took me so long to come to terms with you being the cause for my accident, but nothing puts things into perspective better than thinking that the love of your life had disappeared forever."

"I disappear all the time", Emma points out and Killian shakes his head, his expression growing even more serious.

"Elsa had told me that you just returned that day, and three hours later you were gone again. I thought something had happened to you because you never travel in such a fashion", Killian explains and Emma bites her lip because she hadn't expected it to worry him.

She thought he wouldn't even notice her absence, and even if he did, that he would welcome it.

"It seems like I'm really flighty today", Emma says because she feels herself going, and Killian leans down to give her a parting kiss, sending her off feeling fearless and ready to face anything.

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	14. No Light Without You

**This chapter marks half of the story, so I hope you enjoy and stay on this journey with me.  
**

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 _July 22_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian can't find Emma anywhere. Granted, the city of Boston is far from small, but he had checked all her usual haunts and sanctuaries and it's becoming clear that she'd gone traveling again.

The rain has been coming down for the past hour but the summer heat feels even more stifling than before, so Killian decides to give up and go home to shower and eat something.

Elsa keeps texting him and he calls her as soon as he gets into his building, shaking water out of his hair and slowly climbing the stairs so the elevator doesn't cut him off.

"I'm sure she's alright, she's just-", Killian says and trails off because Emma is sitting on her doormat, her knees pulled up to her chest, the t-shirt she's wearing clinging to her skin. "Elsa, she's here. She was traveling again but she's here."

"Oh thank God", Elsa screams in his ear but Killian doesn't listen to whatever else she's saying, telling her that Emma will call her as soon as she's dry and warm before he disconnects, his eyes taking in the tired lines of Emma's face as he approaches.

"Hey", she says meekly and stands up, twisting the edge of her shirt in her hand; it reaches half-way down her thighs and Killian gulps when he realizes that she's not wearing anything underneath. "I couldn't get into my apartment."

Killian is so glad to see her that he somehow manages to forget what she had done, his hand reaching out to brush her wet hair away from her face all on its own.

"I miss you", Emma says and his hand drops to his side, a wave of bitterness rising inside him swiftly and mercilessly because no matter how much he had missed her too, he's unable to stop thinking about the fact that she's the reason he'd spent such a long time in a hospital and lost things he's never going to get back.

"You need a shower", he says and unlocks his door, then turns toward her when she doesn't follow inside. "Come in, lass."

Even that simple term of endearment scorches his tongue and he feels like somebody had put a knife in his gut because it shouldn't be this way; he still loves her more than words can say.

"Are you sure?" Emma asks and he nods, but even when she closes the door she hovers in the hallway, so he takes her hand and pulls her after him, leading the way to the bathroom.

Her hand is small and soft in his and she follows wordlessly, obviously ready to take whatever he can give her at the moment.

He hadn't seen her in days and he finds that he still wants to give her everything, that the pain of the past and the hurdles of the present lessen in her presence.

"Do you want to go first?" He asks her and reluctantly lets go of her hand because he needs his to open the faucet in the shower, and he pulls his shirt up and over his head, wringing it out as best as he can before he throws it into a washbowl and turns around to face Emma.

She's standing in front of him naked, her eyes meeting his boldly even though there's a blush tinting her cheeks and spreading down the length of her elegant neck.

"Maybe we could shower together?" Emma says and he should feel played, tricked once more into getting over a thing he is probably never going to get over, but she doesn't look like a temptress; she looks perfectly open, vulnerable without her walls and so trusting that he wonders if she knows something he doesn't. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I don't want to waste time anymore."

"I don't either", he admits and unbuttons his jeans, feeling his skin burn under the scrutiny of her gaze as he shoves them down his legs and toes off his boots, opening his mouth to argue when Emma picks his pants up from the floor and folds them neatly before she puts them into the washbowl with his shirt.

She comes to stand in front of him and lays her hands against his chest, just resting them there for a moment, her eyes closing and a tiny sigh fluttering out of her mouth as if she'd been wilting away from him and now she's getting her strength back again.

He feels the same and he pulls her against him roughly, deliberately pressing his stump against the small of her back and watching her face because a lot rides on her reaction; Emma opens her eyes and looks at him steadily, her fingers sliding through his chest hair and settling on his biceps.

Killian wants to tell her that he forgives her, but the accident wasn't really her fault because she's got no control over the destination of her travels, so he just leans down and kisses her softly, brushing his lips against hers a few times before he coaxes her mouth open with his tongue, running it over her teeth and sliding his fingers into her hair to tilt her head back.

Emma pushes up on her toes and kisses him back hungrily, her hips settling into the cradle of his, his boxers growing uncomfortably tight and his skin flushing, which makes hers feel pleasantly cool in comparison.

He nibbles on her bottom lip and she gasps, her thumbs sliding under the elastic of his boxers and pulling them down, her body angling away and making him groan at the loss.

"I want to touch you", Emma tells him and presses a kiss against his chest, then crouches and pushes his boxers all the way down, his hand intercepting hers when she reaches for him.

"Don't- Don't make it feel like atonement", Killian says and her eyes widen as she shakes her head and tells him that it was not her intention. "Let's just shower."

"Okay", Emma agrees and steps into the shower, turning around to face him and pulling him under the spray of warm water, her hands sliding over his back when she kisses him again.

He turns her around and kisses the base of her neck, his hand settling on her hip when she reaches for the shower gel and squeezes some into her hand.

"May I?" She asks and he shrugs, swallowing thickly when she runs her hands over his chest and arms, lathering everything before reaching around him and washing his back too.

Her hand drifts lower with a coy smile and this time he doesn't have the strength to stop her, his hand bracing against the shower wall as she wraps her fingers around him, her mouth pressing against his throat, working in tandem with her hand and bringing him higher and higher until he grounds out her name in a plea for mercy.

"Let go", she coaxes but he doesn't comply, picking her up and pressing her against the sleek wall, her legs wrapping around him, the friction making him curse under his breath; his chest is heaving from exertion when he slides his hand between their bodies and holds her up with just his handless arm.

She pushes against his fingers and he finds her wet and needy, the little noises she makes urging him on relentlessly until she's the one begging for mercy.

"Please, please I need you", Emma gasps against his cheek, lifting up and giving him room to unite them, and even though this isn't their first time for him the way it is for her, it still feels new because it's been so long and so lonely without the comfort of her arms.

"As you wish", he grounds out and slides inside her easily, the feeling so exquisite and fulfilling it makes them gasp and cling to each other, their eyes wide open and locked together as he rocks into her, barely registering the strain of holding her up.

Emma kisses him roughly, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades, her erratic moves spurring him on as the water cascades down his back; he moves his hand to cup her breast, the weight of it in his palm making blood rush through his veins even faster, the steam rising around them and giving everything a dream-like quality.

"Killian", she whines when he thumbs at her nipple, rolling the tight peek between his fingers, reveling in her obvious pleasure; he used to feel like he's got something to prove, but all he feels now is joy to be given the opportunity to make love to her again.

Emma comes apart with a scream that prompts his own release, and he only just manages to pull out before he explodes too, then buries his face into Emma's neck and sways on shaky legs until she comes down from her high and slides down to put her feet on the floor again.

Killian steps back and pulls her under the now lukewarm spray, kissing her once more before he reaches for the shower gel and wedges it between his stomach and forearm to squeeze out the contents into his hand; it's something he'd done a thousand times, and he usually just drops the container and picks it us once he's done lathering up, but this time Emma takes it and replaces it on the shelf, somehow managing not to make a big deal out of it, for which he is grateful.

Considering the impeding threat of the water running cold Killian works fast, and once they are both clean they towel off and he leads Emma into his bedroom, pulling her back against him when she starts for the drawer with his shirts.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" He asks and she turns around in his arms, her eyes shiny and bright when she tells him that she will, her knuckles caressing his cheek gently and lovingly. "Come to bed, then."

"Already?" She teases and he gives her a cocky grin, pressing her close and lifting his eyebrow because he's pretty close to being ready again.

Emma smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes and he sobers, tracing his fingertips up and down her spine as she stares at his chest, lost in thought.

"Swan?"

"I keep thinking that I could have moved if-"

"Emma", he cuts her off and tilts her head back with a finger under her chin, her eyelashes lifting slowly, the weight of her guilt pressing upon his shoulders; he'd been too hurt and confused to reassure her sooner but now he's ready, the bitterness that's been drowning him for days slowly receding. "I've been thinking about what happened a lot since we've last seen each other, and I've come to several conclusions."

"Okay", Emma whispers and he gives her a smile because he wants her to know that there's nothing she should fear.

"I can't say that I don't wish you had moved out of the way in time because that would make me a liar; it's been almost a decade since I lost my hand but I still miss it, even more so on the days when it feels like it's still there", he says and a tear spills down Emma's cheek, his thumb immediately wiping it away. "And yet… considering the possibility that we wouldn't have met without the accident… I can't regret being on that road at precisely the time I was because then I would be regretting you and what we have, and that is never going to happen."

More tears spill down Emma's cheeks, her mouth opened in surprise at his admission, but a moment later she smiles and it looks like the sun coming out, her expression so soft when she frames his cheeks between her palms.

"I love you", she says and it's his turn to look stunned because she had never before said those words even though she had let him know before she had disappeared from his life that he meant a lot to her.

"And I you", Killian replies, then presses kisses against her cheeks and forehead and nose, hugging her close and walking back toward the bed where they lie down facing each other, their fingers entwined and her head cushioned on his arm.

"Don't let go", Emma says and squeezes his fingers, and Killian reassures her that he will not.

It's only a matter of time before she gets taken away from him again, but he's going to hold on for as long as possible, keeping her where she belongs.

By his side.

* * *

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	15. Another First

**Thank you so much for sticking with this story and I hope you keep enjoying; there's still a lot angst and fluff to be had!  
**

* * *

 _August 4_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma and Killian are sitting on a loveseat on the roof of their building, her back leaning against his chest and his arms wrapped around her from behind as the city lights wink sleepily in the distance. It's been a long day for Emma that consisted of walking in what is turning out to be a futile search for a job, so it's no wonder she feels drained, but at the same time so very blessed to be where she is.

She's fed and warm and loved, Killian's fingers playing with hers and his scent filling her nose with every breath she takes, soothing her disappointments with stunning ease; it should scare her, but it does not.

"Tell me about the day we met", Emma asks and leans a little to the side so that she can look up at him. "After you woke up from the coma, the first time I walked into you room."

"It was a Sunday", Killian begins without hesitation, his midnight blue gaze like a caress on her face, his pretty mouth lifting in a wistful smile. "The ward was even emptier than it had been for the past week, and since they gradually lowered the amount of drugs they were giving me before, I felt alert and…"

"In pain?" Emma prompts him because she doesn't want an embellished story that aims to make her feel better.

"They didn't take me off the meds completely, but I wasn't high on them either. Everything ached, but it was more annoying than debilitating", Killian tells her and tilts his head back to look up at the dark sky, momentarily lost in his memories.

"And then I came?"

Killian smiles, his cheek dimpling and making Emma unable to resist reaching her hand up and touching the adorable dent with her thumb.

"You fell into my room, actually", he says with a chuckle and Emma smiles too, because now she remembers.

"I found a shirt but there were no pants so I was in a great haste to get to your room and I tripped", Emma says and Killian grins at the memory, his hand sliding under her shirt, his palm resting gently against her stomach. "You didn't let on that it was the first time you saw me, though."

"I had spent a week staring at the wall with nobody to talk to, so I wasn't about to drive you away by being rude."

"You told me that there should be something of yours I could wear in the closet."

"And you gave me quite an eyeful when you turned around", Killian says, his eyebrow going up to accompany his innuendo.

"It was on purpose", Emma tells him and pulls him down for a kiss that grows heated within minutes, his hand going further up her shirt and leaving a trail of heat on her skin.

"I thought it might have been", Killian tells her when they come up for air and Emma grins, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his bicep.

The sky is so beautiful and the night feels peaceful, but Emma can't shake that old restlessness that sleeps in her bones and fills every moment with anticipation because she never knows when she's going to go and where she's going to end up.

"Where do you go when you're not with me in the hospital?" Killian asks her softly, his fingertips sliding over her jaw as goosebumps rise up on her arms.

"Either too far away to reach you or too long ago to find you", Emma whispers and Killian doesn't ask for an explanation, sensing that it's a sore subject and telling her a story about his childhood, effectively taking her mind off the bad side of time-travel.

 _January 12_ _th_ _2006\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 25)_

"Emma!" Mary Margaret exclaims when Emma stumbles into the shelter wearing only a light shirt and yoga pants, shivering like a leaf because she had spent ten minutes outside and it's below freezing. "We need to get you warm."

The thing Emma loves the most about Mary Margret is that she never asks for an explanation when Emma shows up wearing inappropriate clothes, just quickly finds her something warm and feeds her hot soup, chattering about the other people who use the shelter that Emma had met or not yet met but has to pretend she did for her friend's benefit.

A few hours later Emma feels good again, blessing her good genes or whatever it is that makes it hard for her to get sick. Today has been scary, but she's ready to brave the elements again because she wants to see Killian and make his long, long stay in the hospital slightly more enjoyable.

"I'm gonna go visit Killian", Emma announces, standing in the doorway and watching Mary Margaret rock one of the toddlers in her arms while his mother is trying to get some rest.

"How is he doing?"

"Good, I think", Emma answers, hoping that it's true. Last time she visited him in 2006 he was in a dark mood, but that's still a few months away, and since she didn't manage to stay long enough to figure the reason out, it might as well have been just a bad day.

"Still don't know when are they gonna release him?"

"There's always some complication", Emma sighs, a chill running down her spine when she remembers the number of surgeries he's had on both his leg and arm, some of which are still in the future; Killian is so stoic about it that Emma is always stunned at the fact that he'd spent close to twenty months in the hospital because of his accident, six of which in a coma.

"I'm sure he'll be alright eventually", Mary Margaret says and Emma smiles because she knows he will. "Don't be a stranger, though, once he's out and you move in with him."

For a moment Emma is thrown because she never thinks about Mary Margaret when she's in her own time, and she instantly feels guilty because knowing Mary Margaret, she had probably worried herself sick when Emma stopped coming around.

"I might fall off the grid for a while, but I will be okay", Emma tells her, hoping that Mary Margaret remembers it in the years Emma disappears without a trace.

"See you in a while, then", Mary Margaret says and Emma waves, turning around and leaving the shelter determined to go back to it the second she returns to her own time.

Right now, her time is Killian's, and she comes into his room without knocking, closing and locking the door once she's in.

"Swan", Killian says and she turns around, taking off her cap and shaking the snow from her hair.

"Hey", Emma greets him and toes off her boots, then drapes the parka on a chair in the corner and pads to Killian's bed in her socks.

"Been a while", he says and she pauses, looking him over and trying to determine his physical state.

"Sorry. How's the leg?" She asks, glad that the metal around his knee is gone; Killian is wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his cheeks are a little too pale but it's winter so that's not alarming, and if there wasn't for his missing hand and a wheelchair next to his bed, Emma would wonder what is he still doing here.

"I'm starting physical therapy next week", Killian says and holds out his hand for hers, pulling her down for a kiss and guiding her to straddle his hips.

"Are you sure you want to start with it now?" She asks him playfully, careful not to hurt him as she hovers above him.

"You did lock the door. Seems like a waste if we're not going to do anything", Killian tells her and she revels in his good mood, kissing him hotly and pressing her hand against his ribs. "Bloody Hell, Swan. You're as cold as ice."

"Sorry", Emma says sheepishly and removes her hand, but Killian gives her a predatory smirk that looks cute on his unlined clean-shaven face, grasping her fingers in his and bringing her hand to his lips.

He kisses each of her knuckles in turn, and Emma can feel her blood heating up, her skin singing at his touch.

"I know just how to warm you up", he tells her and releases her hand, wrestling first with her sweater and then the undershirt, dumping both over the edge of the bed and pulling her close to kiss the swells of her breasts; Mary Margaret couldn't find her even an ill-fitting bra and Emma is glad for it when Killian's mouth closes around her already erect nipple.

"We can't", Emma gasps but her resolve is slipping quickly, her hips grounding into Killian's because the pressure goes sky-high abruptly, leaving her breathless and needy for what only he can give her.

"We will", Killian says, shifting his attention to her other breast and simultaneously unbuttoning her jeans.

"Slow down then", Emma pleads, but her fingers tangle in his thick, soft hair and keep his face pressed against her chest.

"Your wish is my command", he says, his accent like another caress as he blows on her heated skin and presses kisses up to her collarbone.

Emma pushes at his shoulders and gives him a warning look when he attempts to slip his hand into her jeans, then tugs on the hem of his shirt and pulls it up and off, her hands pinning his hand and stump over his head.

Killian raises an eloquent eyebrow and Emma leans down to kiss him, biting his full bottom lip before she licks a wet path down his neck and swirls her tongue around his nipple; it's a heady feeling to feel him grow hard, pressing against her center and making her a little frantic for more.

"What happened to slow?" He asks when she gets off him and pushes her jeans down her legs, groaning in frustration when they tangle around her ankles.

"Shut up and get undressed", she says and Killian obeys, but it takes him too long for her liking so she swats his hand away and carefully peels the sweatpants all the way off.

"Don't touch me like I'm made of glass", Killian tells her sternly once they are both naked and she's back to straddling him, keeping her foot away from his leg and trying not to put too much pressure on his hips.

"I don't want to hurt you", Emma says and slides her fingers through his chest hair, pressing against his hand when he reaches between her legs, the pressure rising even higher from his dedicated touch.

"You won't hurt me, love", Killian murmurs and Emma's eyes snap open, a pang of guilt cooling her slightly, but them Killian urges her down and kisses her, asking her not to worry about anything and just let him make love to her.

Emma surrenders to him and pushes the guilt away, lifting her hips when she feels his rigid length nudge her opening, sinking down and biting her lip because it feels so good she wants to yell his name and the last thing they need is one of the nurses banging on the door and demanding to be let in.

"Gods, Emma", Killian groans and puts his hand and stump on her waist, helping her brace herself as she rocks above him, circling her hips as he thrusts up into her, the pressure rising until she explodes, only distantly aware of the fact that he follows a moment later, then collapsing on top of him feeling thoroughly warmed up.

It's only when he shifts her in his arms, making her lie on his good side and lifting her right leg off his left with his forearm under her knee that she remembers where they are and why, and she peers up at his face with a sheepish look.

"How's the leg?"

"Good now that you're not laying on it", Killian says with a goofy grin, looking at her like she's the sun and moon and stars to him, a flash of annoyance passing over his face when he reaches up with his stump as if to brush her tangled hair back behind her ear. "Damn."

"Just do it", Emma says, feeling a certain degree of responsibility to reassure him the way she always does when he thinks he shouldn't do something just because he's missing a hand.

"What?"

"Just do it", Emma repeats and wraps her fingers around his forearm, pulling gently until he realizes what she's saying and smiling at the look of deep concentration on his face as he uses his stump and forearm slightly different than he would fingers if he still had them, but accomplishing the same result nonetheless.

"Thank you, Swan", Killian says, and he sounds so wistful, looking at her with such reverence before he rests his chin against the top of her head and tells her he loves her.

There's something in the way he says it, combined with the fact that he was so eager to make love to her that makes Emma wonder if this was his first time with her, but she can't exactly ask him without seriously offending him if it wasn't.

She guesses she'll just have to ask the older Killian and settles on kissing this Killian, for a moment feeling brave and invincible, already tasting the words she shouldn't say on her lips before she starts worrying about the consequences and ends up keeping them caged inside her heart.

Instead of saying them out loud, she presses them into his chest, her arm wrapping tightly around his waist because she expects to feel the pull of time any minute now and she hates the idea of leaving Killian so quickly after their lovemaking.

Thankfully, fate or providence intervenes, giving them both a reprieve and letting them stay in each other's arms for a while longer.

Letting Emma stay where she's needed most.

* * *

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	16. Starting Over

**Thank you for reading and letting me know how much you enjoy this story; it means more than I can express with words.  
**

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 _August 10_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Killian comes out of the office and finds himself with an armful of Emma Swan, her hair tickling his cheek as she buries her face against his shoulder and holds him tightly.

"I've missed you too", he chuckles and nudges her head with his nose, inhaling her flowery shampoo and rocking them both from side to side.

"Have I ever told you about Mary Margaret? The woman who ran the homeless shelter?" Emma asks him and tightens her hold on his waist, making it impossible for him to look at her.

"You've mentioned her a time or two", Killian says and waits for Emma to tell him the reason for her distress.

"I haven't been by in years", Emma finally says, reluctantly pulling away and allowing him to brush back her hair and see her face.

"You should go right away, then", he tells her and Emma sighs, ducking her head and avoiding his gaze. "I'm sure she'll understand."

"Will you come with me?" Emma asks softly as if she thinks he might not want to, and Killian presses a kiss against her forehead, telling her that he's ready to go. "Right now?"

"I was just going on a lunch break", Killian says and wraps his arm around her waist, directing her toward the back door.

"What if she's mad and doesn't want to talk to me?"

"She runs a homeless shelter. I'm sure there's a lot of people who go off the grid; if anything, she's going to be relieved and happy to see that you're alive and well", Killian says, trying to reassure Emma even though he's not quite sure he believes in what he's saying.

He had known why Emma was missing and even the year she would return, and even so he got so angry sometimes, cursing her genes and fate for keeping them apart.

The shelter is close to the hospital he hadn't been near since he had his last check up and it makes Killian feel uneasy, even more so because he's acutely aware of the fact that next week is the anniversary of his accident.

It is never a good day, but it's going to be the first one with Emma by his side, and he's not sure if that's going to make it better or worse.

"You okay?" Emma asks him, her steps halting and her hand reaching for his, her green eyes full of concern; he forces a smile and points across the street with his stump, not ready to get into it just now.

"There it is."

"Something is bothering you."

"I'll tell you what it is later", Killian says and she looks at him askance but lets him lead her toward the shelter, her shoulders squaring as she prepares to face Mary Margaret. "It'll be alright."

Emma nods absentmindedly and releases Killian's hand, which he immediately lays on the small of her back as they step through the open door and into the cool interior of the shelter.

The woman behind the desk across from the door jumps from her seat, her dramatically made-up eyes widening as they approach, and Killian nudges Emma forward because they are standing frozen in the middle of the room.

"Emma? You look exactly the same as the last time we saw you", the woman says and Emma gives her a sheepish smile, accepting the hug with a relieved sigh.

"It's good to see you, Ruby."

"Mary Margaret is going to be so relieved", Ruby says and pulls back, her attention shifting to Killian. "And who do we have here?"

"Ruby, this is Killian. Killian, Ruby", Emma makes the introductions and Killian offers his hand for a handshake which Ruby takes, then plants a kiss on his cheek.

"Very pleased to meet you", she says and Emma rolls her eyes at Killian's stunned look, motioning to the door presumably leading deeper into the shelter.

"Is she here?"

"Yep", Ruby says and slips her arm into the crook of Killian's elbow, steering him in after Emma. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Did you now?" Killian wonders, waggling his eyebrows because he doesn't want to get Emma in trouble since she hadn't mentioned Ruby at all.

"Now that I think about it, not really. Emma was always going on and on about you, but she never said anything about what you did for a living and things like that."

"Well, at the time I wasn't actually doing anything except lying around and going crazy with boredom", Killian says and Ruby chuckles, her eyes shifting to his left arm and then meeting his squarely, which makes him like her even more.

Emma walks through the hallway ahead of them, and another woman comes around the corner, stopping dead in her tracks and fumbling the stack of towels she's holding in her arms.

"Told you she was fine", Ruby calls and Emma takes half the load from the woman who must be Mary Margaret, then opens the closet and puts them inside.

"I'm sorry-", she starts to say but Mary Margaret cuts her off, abruptly wrapping her arm around Emma, the rest of the towels caught between them.

"You told me not to worry, but I couldn't help it when you just vanished", Mary Margaret says and Emma embraces her tighter, holding her until Mary Margaret gets her emotions under control and pulls back. "You brought Killian."

"I needed moral support", Emma says and Killian thinks that Mary Margaret must be really special for Emma to admit such a thing so freely.

"It's very nice to finally meet you", Mary Margaret says and Ruby releases him so that he can shake her hand, and then they are ushered into a kitchenette where Mary Margaret insists that they eat sandwiches and drink some surprisingly good tea.

Nobody asks Emma why she'd been away and he wonders if she's going to tell them eventually or keep it to herself; he remembers the day she had told him, and wonders if his reaction is what's keeping her from being open about her condition.

He's not too proud of himself, but he figures he'd spent long enough regretting it, paying for his initial disbelief with years of missing Emma.

"Tell me what's new, Emma. You live with Killian?"

"No, but we're actually neighbors."

"So you found a job?"

"I did, but I got fired recently", Emma says, her shoulders slumping because it's not for her lack of trying that she's still unemployed.

"You could always help out here, if you want. They way you used to?" Mary Margaret says hesitantly, looking like she's doing her best not to sound too enthusiastic in case Emma is not interested.

"I would love that", Emma says and opens her mouth to say something else, which Killian takes as his cue to leave.

"I should go back to work", he announces and gives Emma a brief kiss, assuring Mary Margaret that he's going to be coming by often now that Emma is going to work in the shelter.

"You better, handsome", Ruby says with a wink and Killian chuckles, telling Emma that he'll see her later before he lets himself out.

 _August 15_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

It's the morning of the anniversary of Killian's accident and he'd been awake since 5 a.m. lying motionlessly next to Emma and staring at the ceiling because he can't bring himself to look at her.

He's afraid to look at her because he doesn't want to feel resentment, and he doubts he can feel anything else today.

It seems that it's definitely worse to be around Emma, and for a moment he wishes she'd gone traveling again, then feels guilty because he knows that she hates how helpless it makes her feel, not to mention how dangerous it can be at times.

"Hey", Emma's voice startles him and her hand on his shoulder feels too heavy, so he pushes away the covers and sits on the edge of the bed giving her his back. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I always take a day off on… I took a day off", Killian says, and he wonders if Emma even knows when exactly did his accident happen.

Emma doesn't say anything to that so he gets up and goes to the bathroom, and he takes a long time showering, hoping Emma is going to go back to her apartment to get ready for work, but when he comes back she's sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, her elbows resting on her knees and her fingers entwined in her lap.

"Today is the anniversary of your accident", she says and he looks away, nodding tightly and starting for the doorway in hopes that Emma is going to leave it alone. "Don't do this."

Apparently not.

"I'm not going to be good company today, Swan. Just go to work and I'll see you tomorrow", he says, making himself meet her gaze before he leaves the room and goes to the kitchen to look for the bottle of rum he hadn't opened since last year.

"You intend to stay in and drink the day away?" Emma asks just as he's taking a swig straight from the bottle and he sets it back on the counter with a resounding thud.

"What if I do?"

"Ignoring the pain won't make it go away", Emma tells him softly and he closes his eyes when she approaches him, fighting his temper because he doesn't want to say something that would hurt her and it's harder when he has to look at her.

He's glad he doesn't remember anything from the night of the accident.

"Let me help", Emma says and cups his cheek in her palm, her right hand sliding down his left arm, but he flinches away before she reaches his stump.

"You can't help", Killian says and she gets that stubborn look on her face that makes it clear she's not going to pull back and let him deal with this the way he'd been doing for the past seven years.

"Do you trust me?"

"Swan-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. I just can't… be around you at the moment", Killian tells her and there's a flicker of pain in her eyes that she quickly hides, then marches across the kitchen and opens the drawer where he'd put the watercolor supplies he still haven't gotten around to using.

"I'll go if you promise you'll try painting again", Emma says and he grits his teeth because he doesn't like blackmail and what he likes even less is people going through his things.

"I can't paint unless you want me to use this!" He explodes, waving his stump in her face because he wants her to react, wants her to feel guilty because then she might leave him alone.

He doesn't want to think about the accident and he certainly doesn't want to paint today, doesn't want to try and fail no matter how much he longs to go back to it.

"You learned how to draw with your right hand", Emma tells him calmly and he shakes his head, feeling anger rush through his veins like acid, burning him from the inside out.

"It's not the same! I know you're trying to help but your Cosmopolitan psychology won't work on this. Nothing is going to work today, so please go before I say something I'll regret tomorrow."

"You're so scared of failing that you won't even try", Emma says and takes his hand between both of hers because he's too stunned to react. "You're avoiding everything that will remind you of the pain you've felt but you're missing out on so much because of it."

"Emma, please", he whispers, his eyes burning with tears and his throat closing; she had exposed his fear so easily, and he hates how vulnerable and weak it makes him feel.

"You can cling to hope and never paint again or you can try and maybe discover that you can relearn painting, that you haven't lost as much as you thought you did. Isn't that a risk worth taking?"

"I'm sorry, Swan. I just can't", Killian says and Emma looks defeated for a second, but then her eyes light up with a new idea and he's almost afraid to hear what it is.

"Teach me", she says, her gaze so soft, so full of love and concern for him that it's impossible to look away. "Maybe helping me will help you."

Killian's first instinct is to refuse her that too, but she looks so hopeful, so eager to somehow make it up to him that he doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

"Alright."

Emma smiles and kisses his cheek, then stands aside as he takes the paints, a palette and brushes out of the drawer, dumping it all on the kitchen table before he sends Emma to get paper from his bedroom where it's been sitting at the bottom of his closet since he came back from the hospital.

He tries not to think about what he's doing, letting muscle memory take over, but everything is reversed now and even opening the paints is difficult, the tube too small to hold between his forearm and chest; Emma comes back with the paper and his eyes send her a silent warning not to even offer him help.

"I can open my own paint, thank you", she says and plucks the tube from his fingers, squeezing a generous amount on the palette.

The paint is the color of blood and Killian sways a little on his feet, but then Emma adds yellow and announces that she's going to paint the sun.

"A little more yellow, then", Killian says and catches himself reaching for a brush with his left arm, but Emma distracts him by slipping one in his hand and he finds that mixing colors isn't a big issue.

He can feel Emma's eyes on his face although she doesn't say anything, and he proceeds to tutor her on the technique and depth perception, even guiding her hand a couple of times over the course of the morning, but he does not try putting a brush to paper to see what kind of a trail it will leave.

There's no doubt it will be a mess to start, and he prefers to do it alone, and although starting today would possess a certain symmetry, he just can't bring himself to do it with anybody watching.

Not even Emma.

* * *

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	17. Lucky Numbers

**Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter too, and as always, more angst is coming soon.  
**

* * *

 _September 4_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma hears Killian unlock the door of his apartment and she meets him in the hallway, shaking a slip of paper in his face.

"We have to watch the lottery!" She exclaims and kisses him firmly, slamming the door closed and pulling him toward the living room by the hem of his shirt.

"You don't watch TV", Killian says, his puzzled expression making Emma giggle as she releases him and skips away to turn on the TV.

"Tonight I will", Emma says with a wink over her shoulder and dives for the couch, curling her leg under her in her favorite spot and waving for Killian to join her.

"What did you do?" Killian asks when she hands him the piece of paper with a neat line of numbers printed on it, a piece of paper that is going to solve all their money problems, and Mary Margaret's shelter's too.

"Just watch", Emma says and points at the TV where the colorful balls are dancing around, sliding out of the big glass bowl one at a time.

"The first number is three", the announcer says and Emma looks away from the TV because it makes her dizzy already, but Killian is too focused on the ticket in his hand to notice.

The next number is seventeen and Killian's eyes go wide because it's finally dawning on him what's happening.

"Swan…" He starts to say, then trails off when he notices that she's already fading. "Damn it, Emma."

"I'm fine", she tells him even though she's not; she's about to disappear, but then he drops the ticket on the coffee table and takes her hand in his.

"Twenty-one", the announcer says and both Emma and Killian look at the ticket, which bears that number too.

"How much are you looking to win?" Killian asks casually and Emma grins, telling him to be patient a little while longer. "You are bloody brilliant."

"You don't think it's unethical?" Emma asks hesitantly when the fifth number drawn matches the one on the ticket.

"You seem to have a little pirate in you, Swan, and I don't think it's a bad thing", Killian reassures her and they turn toward the TV for the last two numbers.

Emma knows they are going to match, but it's still an incredible feeling to actually see them come out and flash on the screen.

"Congratulations to the happy winner of 37 million dollars!" The announcers says and Emma straddles Killian's lap, raining kisses over his face and giggling when he laughs.

"You just won a fortune!"

"We just won a fortune", Emma corrects him and he dips her over his arm, kissing her passionately without releasing her hand because he'd learned his lesson well, and the last thing they want in a moment like this is another separation.

"Last time you traveled you went to the future, I assume?" Killian asks when they finally come up for air, and it amuses her that he's interested in the mechanics of their win.

"Just a week ahead, and I ended up reading tomorrow's newspapers. It has never occurred to me to do it before, but Mary Margaret's shelter is slowly sinking and so I thought why not?" Emma says and shakes her head at Killian's awed expression. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" He asks her with a raised eyebrow and a smile that dimples his cheek and makes her poke the dent with her fingertip.

"You know how."

"If I'm looking at you as if you're the most stunning person I've ever met, it's because you are", Killian tells her and Emma ducks her head in embarrassment because she doesn't think she deserves the praise.

She just wants to help her friend keep helping people who don't have anybody else to turn to.

"There's one more thing", Emma says and pulls a newspaper clipping from the back pocket of her jeans, straightening it out on her thigh before she turns it toward Killian. "I thought we could buy it."

"You want us to move in together?" Killian asks her with a bright smile that warms her heart because he seems so happy that she was the one to suggest it.

"Do you?"

"I would love to live with you, Swan", Killian says solemnly and points at the smaller building on the picture. "What's that?"

"I thought it could be your studio", Emma answers reluctantly, hoping her plans won't sour his good mood; he's still giving her lessons when she asks, and sometimes he comes home from work with spots of paint on his fingers, but she pretends not to notice because she doesn't want to pressure him.

She figures he's trying, but he's not yet ready to show her the fruit of his labor.

"We should go see it first", Killian says noncommittally, then kisses her in an attempt to distract her from the fact that he's already less enthusiastic about the house than he was a minute ago.

"As soon as I come back", Emma tells him firmly and points at the lottery ticket on the table. "Put it somewhere safe."

"I don't want you to go", Killian says in an uncharacteristic display of melancholy that tugs at Emma's heartstrings because he's usually so stoic, and Emma leans her forehead against his, telling him that she can stay a while longer.

It seems like a while longer is all they ever get.

 _March 15_ _th_ _2007\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 26)_

Killian isn't in his room and Emma takes the elevator down and exits the hospital, walking briskly to the small park tucked between the parking lot and the side entrance; it's almost always empty and Killian seems to prefer it that way, sitting in the sun and reading his books until Emma comes around to visit.

"Hey there, stranger", she says and he looks up with a bright smile lighting up his face as he sets his book aside.

"You are a sight for sore eyes", he tells her and she leans down to give him a kiss, then sits next to him and reaches for his book.

"Smith again?"

"I live vicariously through the Courtney brothers", Killian says and cups her face in his hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb while his eyes roam over the lines of her face. "You look happy and wistful at the same time."

"I am happy", she tells him, her fingers caressing up and down his forearm as he keeps watching her.

"And the wistful part?"

"How did you get so perceptive?" Emma asks him with a playful nudge to his shoulder, her fingers drifting over the light scruff on his cheeks. "And when did u stop shaving?"

"You're an open book, Swan", Killian tells her and rubs his nose against hers, his eyes dancing with mirth. "The nurses don't want to shave me anymore and I still don't trust myself with a razor in the wrong hand."

"I prefer you scruffy", Emma says with a smoldering look that makes Killian wiggle his eyebrows before he accuses her of trying to change the subject, which she is guilty of.

"What's bothering you, love?"

"I'm not ready to tell you yet", Emma murmurs and shakes her head when he opens his mouth to attempt coaxing it out of her. "You're going to know all my secrets someday, Killian."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are."

"I suppose I can wait, then", he says with a long-suffering sigh and mock-winces when Emma smacks his shoulder, then tips his head toward the hospital. "Want to go inside?"

"Absolutely", Emma tells him and his eyebrow shoots up before he reaches for his crutch and stands up, a half-smile hovering on his pretty mouth when she picks up the book for him and they start making their way to the entrance.

"Did I ever thank you for visiting me?" Killian asks her abruptly as they shuffle out of the elevator, Emma slowing her steps to match his because he's starting to fall back, her haste to get to his room amusing her because she can never get enough of him, and she can't remember ever being that way before she had met him.

Must be true love, then.

"I don't know. Did you?" Emma teases and gives him a quick kiss when she opens the door of his room and he slips past her inside.

"I don't think I have. It means the world to me to have you here, Emma", he tells her and wraps his handless arm around her waist, pulling her closer until their hips meet and she has to tilt her head back to meet his blue gaze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome", Emma says softly and kisses him with as much tenderness as she can muster, pouring her love into his cracks and hoping to heal his soul, if she cannot do the same to his body.

 _September 26_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 28, Killian is 32)_

Emma still can't quite believe that it's been only three weeks since the night they won the lottery because they are already moving into the house she'd shown Killian; they had both loved it the moment they stepped inside, and although Killian had only poked his head into the smaller building, she can tell that he's seriously thinking about really making it his studio.

Since neither of them had a lot of belongings in their rented apartments the move takes only one afternoon thanks to Elsa's help, and once that is sorted they break out the barbecue, Robin, Regina and Mary Margaret coming over, which leaves Ruby in charge of the shelter.

"This house is gorgeous, but it sorely lacks art", Regina announces after the tour and Killian wraps his arm around Emma's waist, giving her a warning look because she can't seem to keep herself from snapping at his boss lately, so Emma bites her lip and gives Regina a saccharine sweet smile and assures her that they are going to take their time decorating, emphasizing the word together.

"We've only moved in", Killian says diplomatically and kisses Emma's temple, the two of them trailing in the wake of their guests.

"Can we frame some of your paintings?" Emma asks Killian later that evening after they've christened their king size bed, her fingers lazily tracing paths in his chest hair, his stilling in their caress of her back; a muscle jumps in his jaw and he looks away, staring out of the window silently for the longest time.

"Maybe someday."

"Maybe?"

"Yes", Killian says and she leans over him, leaving him no choice but to look at her.

"Depending on what?"

"A few things."

"Killian-"

"I don't know what else to tell you, Swan", he says and she feels a pang of sadness deep in her heart because it feels like they are never going to be able to openly talk about his art.

"I'm sorry", Emma tells him and turns around, curling on her side of the bed and closing her eyes even though she knows she won't be able to sleep.

"Just give me a little more time, love", Killian says after a while and lays his hand gently on her shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of her head. "I know you wish to help but this is something I have to deal with on my own."

"Isn't the point of being in a relationship that you don't have to deal with things on your own?" Emma asks him in a small voice, remembering all the times he'd brought down her walls and wishing she could do the same for him.

She wants to help him accept his limitations and discover everything he can still do, but she can't do that if he's not willing to talk to her or accept her support and encouragement.

"That's the thing, love. I'm not doing it on my own. You are here, and that's all I need at the moment. I know you still feel guilty about my accident, but pressuring me into things isn't really helping", Killian says and she rolls on her back to face him, finding the softness in his eyes slightly too overwhelming, tears sliding down her cheeks before she even realizes she's crying. "Shhhh. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm alright, darling, I promise you."

Emma lets him convince her and wipe away her tears, closing her eyes when he folds her into his arms and falling asleep to the familiar lullaby of his steady heartbeat under hear ear.

* * *

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	18. The Surprise

**Thank you so much for all your support, and I hope you enjoy the development that happens in this chapter.  
**

* * *

 _October 22_ _nd_ _2012\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 32)_

It's half past nine but Killian can't wait a moment longer, so he wakes Emma up with a kiss, smiling against her mouth when she slides her fingers into his hair and tugs him closer.

"Happy birthday, love", he says and pulls back a little to look at her, her sleepy smile making him wish he could paint her just like this, but he was better at doing landscapes than portraits even before the accident.

"I don't remember telling you when my birthday is", Emma says with some surprise and he thinks how easy it is to get used to the quirks that come with dating a time-traveler.

"You haven't told me _yet_ ", Killian tells her with a wink and tips his head toward the door of their room. "Would you like to come see your present?"

"It's something to look at?" Emma asks enthusiastically and kicks off the covers, kneeling on the bed and cupping his cheeks between her hands, then suddenly going pale and diving in the direction of the bathroom.

"Swan!" Killian exclaims and follows after her, finding her retching into the toilet bowl, his stomach dropping because he can't remember ever seeing her sick. "What can I do?"

He sits on the floor next to her and wraps her hair around his wrist, cringing at the sounds of her obvious distress.

"Maybe I ate something bad yesterday", Emma says and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, flushing the toilet and leaning her head against Killian's shoulder. "I still feel sick."

"We had both lunch and dinner together. What else did you eat?" Killian asks her and frowns in confusion when her eyes go wide. "What?"

"Shit, shit, shit", Emma mutters under her breath and climbs to her feet, swaying a little and bracing her hand against the top of Killian's head. "Shit."

"You're scaring me, love. What's wrong?"

Emma's face crumples and she shakes her head, then slowly lifts her shirt up and lies her palm against her stomach.

"I'm pregnant", she says with an astonishing amount of certainty and Killian's eyes dart between her stomach and face, his brain trying to catch up to what she's saying. "Killian, I'm pregnant."

"I'm going to go buy a pregnancy test", he says as calmly as he can, trying to keeps his excitement in check because Emma looks like she's seeing the end of the world and he doesn't want to know the reason for that.

The very idea of a baby that's half her and half him makes him want to sing, but she's obviously extremely distraught, so he opts to wait until they are sure before he whoops with joy.

"Oh God", Emma says and grabs his hand to stop him from leaving, pulling him back when he's almost out the door.

"What is it?"

"Do you remember out first time? When you were still in the hospital?"

"Of course. You came in covered in snow and you needed warming up. Now that I think about it, it didn't seem like you knew it was our first time", Killian tells her and gulps when he remembers how he was too elated that they were finally making love to be able to be responsible about it. "Emma…"

"For me it happened in the beginning of August", she says and bites her lip so hard it turns white. "Oh God."

Emma blinks furiously and starts shaking like a leaf, pushing past him on her way out of the bathroom and moving so fast he doesn't catch up to her until she's already in the hallway.

"Swan, wait! Where are you going?" He catches her hand and she looks around as if not really sure how did she get where she is, tears spilling down her cheeks as she presses her free hand to her stomach.

"What am I gonna do?" She asks him in a small voice that makes his heart break, so he pulls her into a hug and holds her close as she cries and clings to him, her tears leaving wet patches on his t-shirt.

"I know we never talked about having children, and I know you're not ready for such a big commitment, but I assure you, love; everything will be alright."

"Killian, no", she gasps and pulls away, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a sad smile on her lips. "I want this baby, but I am so scared that... that…"

She trails off and shakes her head, unable to complete the sentence and put her fears into words, but he's fairly certain he knows what they are anyway.

"You think the traveling might hurt your or the baby", Killian says, his stomach filling with dread; he feels an overwhelming urge to take Emma's hand in his and not let go until she completely recovers from delivering their boy or girl.

"What if it had already hurt it?" Emma asks and looks at him pleadingly, and he realizes that she's counting on him to reassure her even though, for all they know, she might be right.

Their baby might already be affected.

"I'm going to go buy a pregnancy test, and you schedule an appointment with your gynecologist", Killian tells her because he doesn't want to give her false hope, but he also doesn't want to speculate on what might had gone wrong, and still might.

"I will have to tell her about time-traveling."

"Let's just focus on one thing at a time, alright, love?"

"Okay", Emma says weakly and watches him pull on a pair of sneakers and shrug into his leather jacket, and Killian gives her a carefree smile before he presses a kiss to her forehead and steps out into the chilly morning.

His fake smile doesn't falter until he's out of sight even though he knows Emma had recognized it for what it was; she had seen him smile like that so many times.

* * *

"We're pregnant", Killian says an hour later, staring at the third test in Emma's hand that has sported two pink lines.

"It's so hard to keep track of my period with all the travels but I should have realized sooner-", Emma says and Killian cuts her off because she's working herself up again and he's terrified that the time is going to pull her away.

"Shhhh, even breaths", he says and lays his hand on her hip, holding her gaze as they breathe in unison and Emma's anxiousness lessens a little.

"Dr. Ingrid said that she can squeeze me in at 6:45 today", Emma tells him and Killian nods, wondering briefly how are they going to convince her that Emma is a time-traveler and coming to the conclusion that there is no way a physician will believe them unless Emma vanishes before her very eyes, which is something Killian wants to avoid at all costs.

"Good. In the meantime, I'm going to cook you something", Killian says and Emma shakes her head, claiming that she still feels queasy.

"You have to eat, love, you're-"

"If you say that I'm eating for two I'm going to hit you with something heavy", Emma tells him and he chokes on a chuckle because she looks deadly serious and all the more adorable for it. "Are you laughing at me?"

"I should think not", Killian says and kisses her cheek, then escapes into the kitchen when she glares daggers at him.

He decides to make an omelet, cracking the eggs and listening to the sound of Emma's footsteps as she moves through the house, jumping when he hears the sound of glass breaking and immediately abandoning his cooking.

Emma appears to be unharmed, completely ignoring the glass on the floor and staring at the painting she'd uncovered on the coffee table; it's her birthday present, but in their distress over the baby news it had slipped his mind to show it to her.

"Happy birthday", he says and kneels to pick up the broken glass off the floor, belatedly realizing that he's got nothing to put it in and just looking at the shards because he's suddenly scared that Emma won't like her present.

His lips curl up in a mockery of a smile as he admits to himself it's not what scares him; what scares him is that she will find his painting lacking, and then look at him with false enthusiasm when she tells him that it's beautiful.

It's been so long since he'd painted with his dominant hand, so long since he had confidence in his skill and passion that he is entirely incapable of telling if his art is any good now that he's using his right hand and because of it, a slightly different technique.

Emma doesn't say anything but he can tell that she's looking at him now, no longer studying his painting, and her gaze burns him, his fears only growing bigger the longer she keeps quiet.

Eventually, she grows tired of waiting for him to look at her and walks around the couch, kneeling in front of him on the far side of the broken glass.

"Hey", she says, her voice soft as if she thinks that anything louder than a whisper would frighten him like a skittish animal.

And perhaps it would.

"Look at me", she tells him and he lifts his gaze to hers because he doesn't want to upset her, and the awe in her eyes that can't be faked takes his breath away. "That painting is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

A rush of pure joy surges through Killian's veins and he feels a huge weight lifting off his shoulders for the first time since the accident, and his dream comes back into focus after he'd spent years looking at it though a mirage.

"Thank you", he says and smiles, reaching out his hand for Emma's and squeezing her fingers before they clean the broken glass together, Emma picking the jagged pieces and carefully arranging them on his palm so that neither of them gets cut.

* * *

Dr. Ingrid establishes that Emma is eleven weeks pregnant and reassures them both that everything seems alright with the baby.

"You're a healthy woman, Emma. I can't see why this pregnancy shouldn't be easy as pie."

Emma gives Killian a panicky look and he squeezes her hand, encouraging her silently to tell the doctor what she needs to know.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I'm a time-traveler", Emma blurts out, attempting to make it quick like ripping off a band-aid, but only succeeding in sounding breathless and slightly ridiculous even to Killian's ears.

It's the same sentence she's going to use on him in her future, something he'd heard in his past and suffered the haunting effects of until Emma returned to him.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not like other people. My life doesn't always move forward through time", Emma says and Dr. Ingrid takes a step back from the table, which clearly distresses Emma, her hand growing cold and clammy in Killian's.

"Breathe, Emma", he reminds her and looks steadily at the doctor when he tells her that it's true.

"One moment she's here, and the next she's somewhere like June 2005 or May 2014."

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Dr. Ingrid asks with an uncertain smile and Killian is now certain that she won't believe them unless she sees some kind of proof with her own eyes.

Emma meets his gaze and he can tell that she has reached the same conclusion.

"Let me go", she says and Killian loosens his grip on her hand a little and finds that Emma doesn't look fully solid, Dr. Ingrid's eyes going comically wide. "It's okay, Killian. Let me go and explain everything when I'm gone."

He finds that he can't make his fingers move because he's deathly afraid of the same thing Emma is; something harming their baby, or God forbid completely extinguishing the steady heartbeat they've listened to just minutes ago.

"We are gonna be alright", Emma tells him, brave and beautiful as she always is when faced with the inevitable, and Killian curses eloquently under his breath before he kisses her and releases her hand, simultaneously stepping back so that Dr. Ingrid can see something she'd never seen before.

"I love you", Killian says and then Emma is gone, the hospital gown she'd been wearing spread out over the examination table.

"What the Hell just happened?" Dr. Ingrid asks and Killian offers a prayer to the heavens before he tells her everything he knows about Emma's condition.

* * *

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	19. The End

**I am truly sorry for this. Thank you for reading, and try to keep the faith in the happy ending.**

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 _September 8_ _th_ _2014\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 34)_

Emma moves gingerly, as if a wrong move could start a chain reaction that could hurt her baby. She's in the future now, and it's the first time since she had discovered that she's pregnant, so it feels like a dangerous trap even more than it usually does.

If she could choose, she'd never travel forward in time.

Luckily, she didn't appear in hers and Killian's neighborhood, but she is too close for comfort, on the edge of the park that they often visit; it has a section for kids, a sandbox and swings and…

Emma is at a perfect place and time to find out if everything turns out alright, if the baby she never expected having so soon after meeting the love of her life would be brought to term and born healthy and perfect.

She doesn't want to think about other possibilities, but they are there at the back of her mind, demanding attention and sending ice-cold shivers down her spine.

Emma walks into the park without even realizing and finds herself on a shadowy path that leads to the heart of it, her steps faltering because she shouldn't be doing this.

What are the chances that Killian and future her are going to be here?

She comes out into the sunlight and looks around, her eyes shifting from one child to another, then to the families and parents sitting on benches around the playground.

Killian is crouching on the edge of the sandbox with his back turned, but she doesn't have any trouble recognizing him from the shape of his shoulders and the darkness of his hair, and after another sweep of the playground to make sure her future self isn't here, she walks across the grass, beyond relieved that their baby is okay.

Why else would Killian be here otherwise?

She's still fifty yards away when he turns, as if sensing her presence somehow, and even the distance can't hide his hopeful expression that quickly turns into something raw and so full of pain that she barely recognizes him.

Emma stops, frozen in place and instantly scared, instantly wishing she hadn't come here at all.

But it's too late for regret.

Killian stands up and holds out his arms, his palms toward the ground, motioning for Emma to stay where she is. It barely registers with her that he's wearing his prosthetic because she's too focused on watching him lean down to scoop up a toddler in a blue shirt, cradling his wriggling body close and talking to him urgently even as he carries him toward Emma.

They are having a boy and a smile blossoms on Emma's lips even though her heart is beating too fast and blood is rushing in her ears.

Killian is looking at her like a man who hadn't seen the sun for years, his eyes caressing her face until he's close enough to touch; he shifts their son to his other hip and reaches out his real hand to cradle her cheek, and Emma doesn't know whether to look at him or their baby.

"Emma", Killian says in a low, broken voice that makes her want to cover her ears and run away before she learns something she won't be able to forget.

"Mama", their little boy exclaims and reaches out his arms for her, opening and closing his fists in anticipation.

His hair is the color of straw and his eyes are the exact same shade of blue as his father's, and Emma takes him on an instinct, smiling when he presses his warm face against her neck and bunches a strand of her hair into his hand.

"Hello, sunshine", she says and kisses the top of his head, absentmindedly rubbing his back and looking into Killian's red-rimmed eyes that speak of tragedy and loss better than any words could.

"We named him Leo", Killian tells her in a careless, uncharacteristic disregard for her rules, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a shadow of his bright smile.

Emma wants to ask, but at the same time she doesn't want to know. She wishes she didn't know what year it was, but even if she didn't, she could still guess at Leo's age, and even though she was never good at math, this is an equation easily solved.

Future Emma isn't here and Killian is looking at her as if he never expected to see her again.

Leo can't be much older than one, and she wants to weep for him more than herself, because he's much too young to lose a mother.

And what's worse, he's not even aware of it, because right now, she's here.

"When?" Emma asks Killian, grasping his hand in hers and holding on, shivering when he steps closer and rests his forehead against hers.

"Last month", Killian tells her, no hesitation whatsoever.

He wants her to know, and she understands why; he's giving her the gift of time, so that they can make as many memories as possible until she's gone.

"I'm scared", she whispers, her heart sinking because they don't even have two years left, because Killian looks like he's close to falling apart, and because their son won't even remember her when he's older.

There is a terrible sadness in Killian's blue eyes, but he musters up a grin for her benefit, sifting his fingers through her hair as he talks.

"There's still hope, Swan. You are still… You still are", he says, and she can tell that it requires a great deal of strength for him to try and convince her to fight when he had already lost everything.

"What should I do?" She asks him, and then she feels herself starting to fade, the panic in his eyes almost too painful to bear.

"No, Emma, please. Not yet", he says, his chin shaking as she kisses Leo's head and holds him out for Killian to take. "Please, not yet."

"I'm sorry", Emma says and Killian reaches for her hand, an impatient sound escaping him when she takes it because it's his fake one.

He wouldn't be able to keep her anchored to this time even if it were not.

"I love you", she tells him and then she's gone.

 _November 1_ _st_ _2012\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 32)_

Emma wakes up in the early evening, groggy with sleep she had gone to after returning from the future, heartbroken and frightened and on the verge of panic but unwilling to call Killian and tell him to come home early.

It was quite a scene she had caused in Dr. Ingrid's practice when she came back, even though the only witness to her sudden appearance was the doctor herself, who now believed Emma's story and seemed enthusiastic to monitor her pregnancy.

"Swan?" Killian whispers from the doorway and Emma feels like there's a ton of rocks bearing down upon her, her eyes following him as he crosses the room and comes to sit down next to her. "Is the little one alright?"

He lays his hand on her stomach gently and Emma's eyes prickle with tears, her palm resting over his fingers as she tries to find the words no father to be ever wants to hear.

"We name him Leo", she says and he stills, then leans over and turns on the bedside lamp, his eyes searching her face for just a few moments before his face falls.

"What happens to him?" Killian asks her unbearably softly, his shoulders falling in anticipation of the unthinkable.

"He's a healthy little boy", Emma reassures him, shifting her hand on his knee and wishing she could unlearn what she knows for just a while longer.

"What did you see?" Killian asks because he knows her, knows her face and knows her moods, his eyes regarding her with barely contained anxiousness.

"I wasn't there", Emma manages to say, and it's the only thing she can tell him about her future absence.

It's the only thing he needs to understand the tragedy that awaits them.

"Emma", he says in a voice that doesn't quite sound like him, too deep and hollow and terrified, his hand moving from her stomach to her face, his thumb wiping away the tears that are impossible to stop from falling.

"I don't know what happens in August of 2014, but in September I'm no longer there", she says and then she's sobbing, her whole body shaking because she can't stop thinking about everything that Killian had already suffered because of her, and imagining how much more horror he will have to endure.

Her heart is heavy because she is going to miss out on so much, but it also aches terribly for him and the pain she will cause him.

"I'm sorry", she chokes out and he lies down next to her, gathering her in his arms and telling her that it's alright, that they are going to find a way, that he won't let anything bad happen to her.

He keeps saying it long after her tears had run dry, until his voice is hoarse and his hand had probably grown too tired from caressing her because it is now resting motionlessly on her barely-there baby bump.

Emma might even believe him if it wasn't for the haunted look in the future Killian's eyes that had educated her on what a true devastation of human spirit leaves behind in its wake.

The most terrible thing in the world; an absence of hope.

 _December 20_ _th_ _2012\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 32)_

Christmas is just a few days away but Emma had never felt less infused with the holiday spirit than she does this year, even despite the fact that she had spent every single one in her adult life alone, and this year she knows it will be different.

There will be a party at the shelter, and Emma will be surrounded with friends and Killian, but how can she rejoice when she knows that her days are numbered?

Since she had told Killian about the future he's been going out of his way to try and make her smile, doing everything to reassure her and help her focus on the good, but Emma feels trapped and unhappy and unable to connect to anything, even their unborn baby.

The ultrasound showed them Leo, happily floating around in Emma's stomach, and Killian had been in such awe, his eyes shiny when he looked at her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that none of it was real.

"Swan? Where are you?" Killian calls through the house and she doesn't answer, knowing he will find her anyway and wishing he would stay away for a bit longer because his endless enthusiasm is tiring.

He keeps buying toys and clothes and he'd already painted the nursery in which she's currently sitting with her hand on her baby bump and what feels like an empty heart.

"There you are", Killian says as he comes in and kisses her cheek, hanging a shopping bag off his fake hand so that he can take the new toys out and show them to her one by one.

She thinks he'd taken to wearing the prosthetic because he's afraid that the future is his fault, that he is to blame for what happens to her and that somehow he can make it right if he uses the fake hand after years of refusing to.

She doesn't have the heart to tell him that it's already too late for that.

"Swan?" He asks, aware that he'd lost her attention after the third toy and drops the shopping bag on the floor before he kneels in front of her and looks up with those bluer than blue eyes of his that still believe in miracles.

Emma wants to tell him that she's okay even though she's not, but then a tiny foot or a hand connects with her stomach and it feels like the Earth is finally starting to turn again.

"Oh", she says, soft and reverent when it happens again, like a tickle inside her that can't be anything but Leo making his presence known.

"Emma? Are you alright?" Killian asks, worried and urgent and uncertain, but Emma smiles at him, her hand caressing her stomach where she had felt the flutter.

"Leo kicked me", she says and Killian reaches out his hand tentatively, sliding it underneath hers even though it's too soon for him to feel their baby move.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all", Emma tells him, tracing his long, paint-smudged fingers with her fingertips and feeling something inside her shift.

She had thought she would never feel hope again, but now it's rushing back, fed by her love for Leo and Killian's unrelenting love for them both, and Emma shrugs off her despair as if it's a physical thing, a dark cloak that she absolutely doesn't need.

The universe might not have granted her more than two years, but even that is a gift she shouldn't squander.

Emma leans down and kisses the top of Killian's dark head, holding onto love and managing to forget everything else.

For now.

* * *

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	20. Don't Let Go

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, and for sticking with me on another bumpy ride.  
**

* * *

 _February 14th 2013. (Emma is 29, Killian is 32)_

Just like he had on her birthday, Killian wakes Emma up with a kiss on Valentine's Day, smiling when she wraps her arms around his neck and tugs him down to lie next to her.

"Happy-"

"Shhhhh", Emma cuts him off and leads his hand to her baby bump, pressing it against the place where their son is having another solo football match.

"How can you sleep through that?" Killian asks her fondly and scoots down the bed, lifting the shirt that used to belong to him before she had claimed it as hers and pressing a kiss against her stomach. "Go back to sleep, little love."

"He never listens when I tell him to stop hitting me", Emma pouts, her fingers playing through Killian's hair, and he finds it impossible to meet her eyes because he's suddenly overwhelmed with the inevitable loss he's going to have to face.

Dr. Ingrid has introduced them to one of her colleagues, a geneticist who's more than eager to find a way for Emma to be in charge of her condition instead of the other way around, but the kind of therapy he's got in mind can't be administered until Leo is born, which makes Killian feel like they are wasting time doing nothing.

Emma refuses to even take Tylenol, unwilling to put their baby in jeopardy in any way, and so the time they have left to do something diminishes inexorably.

"I have a gift for you", Killian says, pushing the dark cloud away so Emma doesn't see how scared he really is and lifting a framed painting from the floor, reveling in the way Emma reacts to seeing her portrait.

"Killian…", she murmurs, looking between his face and her own, lovingly painted over the course of the last few weeks while she was asleep. "How did you do it? I never posed for you."

"You took a lot of naps in the past month", Killian says with a mock-sigh and Emma laughs, then kneels on the bed and gives him a passionate kiss, telling him that the paining is beautiful and that she's so proud of him.

Her praise makes him blush and he scratches behind his ear with his fake hand, following after Emma when she untangles herself from the blankets and goes to find the perfect place to hang the painting he's carrying under his arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat breakfast first?" Killian asks after they've picked a spot in the hallway and he's holding a nail to the wall, eying the hammer Emma is about to swing at it and trying not to flinch away.

"It will only take a minute", she tells him and hits the nail three times, thankfully sparing Killian's fingers; they hang the painting together and Emma leans against the wall opposite from it, her hand absentmindedly caressing her baby bump as she studies her portrait a while longer. "I should film a video for Leo."

It takes Killian a few moments to grasp what she's saying because she sounds calm and composed even as she throws down the proverbial towel, but once he does, he's too deeply cut to respond in any way.

"He needs to know how much I love him."

"Emma", Killian says her name roughly, stepping between her and the painting she's still staring at and cupping her face between his hands, looking at her and trying to will hope from his heart into hers. "Leo won't need a video because you're going to be there. Alright? You're going to be there until he's grown up and his children are grown up too."

"I wish I could be as optimistic as you are", Emma whispers, her fingers wrapping around his wrists, her eyes bright when they meet his.

"Dr. Hopper is going to figure something out. You'll see", Killian tells her firmly, praying that Emma never finds out just how much he's starting to doubt that.

Emma doesn't appear convinced and he pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly until her stomach rumbles and she announces that it's time for breakfast.

 _March 21_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 32)_

Emma has been gone for four days now and Killian feels like he's going crazy, spending every waking moment wondering if she's alright or if she's about to have Leo somewhere in the past.

He tries painting, but he's too worried to concentrate and he ends up pacing the living room from which Emma had disappeared because he'd been out in the garden when she started fading and he didn't get to her in time.

If something happens to her or Leo it's going to be his fault because he should have been more vigilant now that they are just five weeks away from her due date.

Emma appears in front of him as suddenly as she always does and Killian feels his knees go weak with relief, but he manages to stay upright when she wraps her arms around him and hides her face against his shoulder.

"I missed you."

"Are you alright?" Killian asks, barely able to believe that she's back in his arms intact.

"We're fine. You just had your second surgery and I sat with you until you woke up", Emma tells him and now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he remembers her baby bump, which he had at the time appropriated to post-anesthesia wooziness.

"I'm calling Dr. Ingrid anyway", Killian says and Emma lets him, taking a shower and getting dressed by the time the doctor arrives to make a house call.

It's not until she announces that both Emma and Leo are well that Killian feels like he can breathe again.

"You look tired", Emma murmurs after Dr. Ingrid leaves and they settle on the couch, her feet in Killian's lap so that he can give her a massage.

"Didn't get much sleep", Killian admits as he rubs his thumb against the sole of Emma's foot which makes her giggle and try to pull her leg away.

"You should take a nap", she tells him softly but he just shrugs, determined not to let her out of his sight for as long as he's able.

"I'm not tired."

"Hey", Emma says sharply and cups his cheek, making him look at her before she speaks. "You worry too much."

"I didn't worry enough", Killian tells her and Emma tugs him close, making him lay his head against her shoulder and running her fingers up and down his arm, deliberately making him even sleepier than he'd been before.

She doesn't tell him that everything is going to be alright but she is calm and gentle and Killian finds it impossible to keep his eyes opened any longer.

"I love you", she whispers against his temple but he's asleep before he manages to say it back.

 _May 4_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 33)_

"Killian, wake up!" Emma's voice breaks through Killian's dream and he sits up in bed, startled and slightly bewildered because Emma's due date is in three days and they've been on edge for a week.

"Is it time?" He asks, flicking on the light and studying Emma's face, a stab of panic making his hand shake.

"Oh yes", she says and he helps her get up and get dressed, then undressed when her water breaks and wets her pants.

The more distraught Emma becomes, the calmer Killian is, and he ushers her out and into the passenger seat of their car, throwing her bag into the back seat and realizing only then that he hadn't remembered to put on his prosthetic.

"Killian!" Emma prompts him into action and he jumps into the car and starts the engine, darting a look at her as he eases out of their driveway and laying his hand on her back where she's doubled over her knees as soon as the road is straight enough for him to steer with his stump.

"Hold on, love."

"You better not drive the way you usually do", she hisses and he huffs because he absolutely does not drive too slow, but still presses the accelerator a little harder than usual, getting them to the hospital quickly but safely.

Killian calls Dr. Ingrid while the nurses settle Emma into a room, and then he's by her side, offering her his hand to hold and biting his lip because her grip is almost bone-crushing.

"I can't do this", Emma says, trying to get up off the bed, the nurse looking at Killian to help her keep Emma in bed.

"Swan, calm down. If you get worked up you might travel", he tells her urgently and kisses her clammy brow when she relaxes back into the pillows.

"I am already worked up! Where is Dr. Ingrid? I need Dr. Ingrid", Emma says and Killian reassures her that she'll be there soon, which turns out to be about twenty minutes during which Emma doesn't let go of his hand.

"Let's see how we're doing", Dr. Ingrid says in her bright tone and Emma loosens her grip on Killian's hand, releasing it completely and leaning forward when another contraction hits her.

He flexes his fingers and shakes his hand out, then feels like somebody had poured icy water over him when he realizes that Emma is starting to fade.

"Killian!" Emma gasps and he takes her hand again, sitting down next to her and trying not to let himself panic.

"I'm here, Emma. I'm not letting go."

Emma starts crying and Killian looks at Dr. Ingrid, properly scared now.

"This is going to be tricky", Dr. Ingrid says mildly and shifts her icy-blue gaze from Emma to Killian. "You are not going to let go of her hand until I tell you to. It will take her a few days to recover after I deliver your baby so you consider yourself glued to her. Understood?"

"Aye", is all Killian can manage to say, wincing when Emma grips his hand with terrifying strength once again.

"Sorry", she says faintly but he assures her that it's alright, and they keep repeating that dialogue for the next five hours before Dr. Ingrid finally catches their son in her arms and his cry pierces the otherwise quiet room.

"There we go", Dr. Ingrid murmurs and hands the baby to a nurse who carries him away, and Killian resists the urge to follow them with his eyes, focusing all his attention on Emma instead.

She looks pale and exhausted and he squeezes her hand, kissing the top of her head and telling her that she was amazing.

"Is he okay?" Emma asks Killian weakly but he doesn't have time to answer before the nurse brings Leo back to them; he's cleaned up and swaddled in a blue blanket, and the proud parents get their first glimpse of their infant son's face.

It's the most beautiful sight Killian had ever seen, his heart overflowing with love and affection for both Leo and Emma, but it's only when his baby boy opens his eyes and Killian sees that he's got his eyes that he feels tears burning in his throat.

Killian is both sad and relieved that Leo only gets his chin and the color of his hair from his mother.

"He's perfect", Emma says, her knuckles caressing Leo's cheek, her happy grin bringing a smile to Killian's face even though his fingers are aching to touch him too, and they are otherwise occupied. "Let me hold him."

Killian feels a pang of regret as he realizes that he won't be able to hold him until Emma feels better, but he ignores it because it's a small price to pay to ensure that the woman he loves heals properly before time takes her away.

The nurse lies Leo in the crook of Emma's arm and she tugs on Killian's hand, which makes him squeeze it tightly because he's desperately afraid of them losing contact and thus making Emma travel, which would undoubtedly prove fatal so soon after she had a baby.

Emma makes an impatient noise, then gives Killian a sheepish smile as he hesitantly caresses Leo's arm with his stump, their son's legs kicking against the blanket a few more times before he closes his eyes and stops fussing.

"All done", Dr. Ingrid announces and takes off her gloves, then instructs one nurse to take Leo and the other to keep an eye on Emma and help Killian if he needs to go to the bathroom.

"Excuse me?" Killian gasps, his cheeks burning when he realizes that Dr. Ingrid wasn't joking when she said that he should consider himself glued to Emma.

"Unless you plan on holding it in for the next three days, which is the minimum amount of time Emma will need to recover, you're going to let Nurse Maria help you."

"I am so sorry", Emma says, but he can tell that she's trying really hard not to laugh, and Killian is too relieved to be offended.

"At least I can stay with you even past the visiting hours", Killian tells her and she brings him down for a kiss, falling asleep just a few minutes later.

He kisses the back of her hand and tries to find a comfortable position on the edge of her bed without jostling her too much.

* * *

 **Review?**


	21. The Last Time

**Thank you for reading and/or reviewing, and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _May 8_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 33)_

Emma and Killian are sitting side by side on her hospital bed, watching Leo in his cot; he's sleeping soundly, his tiny fist opening and closing rhythmically and inviting Emma to slip her finger into it, smiling when Leo grasps it.

He's only four days old but Emma already loves him more than she had ever loved anything or anyone, including Killian.

"You better come back quickly", Killian says, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, his blue eyes studying her profile as if he means to commit every line to memory.

"You'll be fine", Emma tells him because she knows he will, knows that Leo is going to be safe and loved while she's gone.

"A one-handed dad and a newborn baby; what could possibly go wrong, huh?" Killian jokes but she can tell that he's anxious, doubting his ability to take care of Leo on his own.

"Now you're just selling yourself short", Emma says and covers their joined hands with her free one. "You are going to be amazing, and Elsa is gonna come over to help you bathe him."

"I haven't even held him yet", Killian tells her, his voice small and his eyes pleading with her not to go.

She had never wanted to stay more, to let go of his hand and lay their son in his arms and spend days watching them together, but they've postponed her travel long enough.

Emma had recovered enough, and it is time she let go of Killian's hand to get swept back into the past, or future, wherever her faulty genes want to take her next.

"We should ask Dr. Ingrid for one more day", Killian says and Emma shakes her head, kissing him soundly because they both know that Dr. Ingrid is out of excuses to the hospital administrator and safe for going public with Emma's secret, there's nothing left she can do.

Killian and Leo have to go home and Emma has to go where her body wants her to be.

Her heart is a whole different deal, but no matter how much she wants to follow it, she just can't.

"I love you", she says, then leans down to kiss Leo's smooth cheek before she gives Killian a parting smile and tries to pull her hand out of his firm grip.

"Swan, please. You should rest, not run around in the past trying to find clothes before you get arrested."

"Won't be the first time", Emma tells him with a wink, trying to lighten the mood even as she gently pries his fingers open with her left hand.

He lifts his stump as if to stop her, his shoulders sagging when he realizes it's useless in this situation, and he finally releases her fingers after days of having them entwined with his.

The last thing Emma sees are his tired, resigned eyes, and then she's being pulled back more violently than ever before, paying for the reprieve the touch of Killian's hand had given her.

 _September 17_ _th_ _2007\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 27)_

The nurse at the front desk of Surgery ward is new, and she claims that there's nobody called Killian Jones currently in the hospital. Emma had already been by his room but it's occupied by an older woman, who had never heard of Killian either.

"Emma? What are you doing here?" Nurse Annie asks and Emma runs up to her, hoping that she's going to be able to help.

"I can't find Killian."

"He checked out months ago. He thought you would come get him but you never showed", Annie says and Emma braces her hand against the wall to steady herself because she suddenly feels woozy, which is no wonder since she didn't waste time on eating before she left the shelter.

It's unnerving to be away from him after she had him hold her hand for four days non-stop, and somehow making sure that this Killian is alright feels like compensation for leaving her Killian behind.

She didn't have a choice, but she still feels guilty for it.

"Do you know where he lives?" Emma asks urgently, dread filling her gut at the thought that she might not be able to find Killian.

"We can check his file", Annie says and Emma follows her down to the archive where they uncover an address Emma immediately goes to check out, her heart sinking when it turns out that Killian had moved out and left no forwarding address.

Emma feels exhausted and achy all over, but she's not willing to give up yet, deciding to give their apartment building a shot; perhaps she's going to find Killian in the same place she'd found him last time.

The familiar door swims before her eyes and she leans heavily against it, black spots dancing in front of her eyes as she knocks weakly, whispering Killian's name under her breath and absentmindedly wondering if she should have stayed at the hospital and asked Annie to find her a doctor.

"Please be here", Emma says because if she has to be away from her Killian, the universe can at least let her spend time with the one from this time.

The door finally opens and Emma stumbles right into Killian's arms, a sob of relief tearing from her throat as she wraps her arms around his waist and holds on as tightly as she can.

"Swan", he says coolly, keeping her upright but not hugging her back, and Emma wonders exactly how many months did pass since he's seen her last.

"I was so scared I wouldn't be able to find you", she says, still stubbornly holding on because she's too afraid to look up at his face.

"Why are you here, Emma?" He asks, and although his voice is soft, there's a certain edge to it that she'd never heard before.

"Because you're here", she tells him, finally pulling away and meeting his eyes.

His hair is too long and his cheeks are scruffy, but the change in him isn't due to his physical appearance; the hopelessness that he'd been fighting in the hospital, that she'd helped him fight, seems to have defeated him.

"You disappeared", Killian says and pulls away, and for a moment she's not sure he won't just shove her out of his apartment and into the hallway, but he ends up just slamming the door shut and turning back toward her with a look of disappointment and anger on his face. "I waited for weeks and weeks and you never came but I kept hoping because I couldn't believe that you would just abandon me without a word."

"I'm sorry, Killian, I didn't-"

"You didn't what? You didn't think I would miss you? You didn't think I would worry myself sick wondering what had happened to you? One day you were there and the next you were gone and I had no one left!" Killian yells at her and she presses her hands to her mouth to keep herself from sobbing, but she can't stop the tears that are rolling down her cheeks and blurring her vision. "Why, Swan? Just tell me why."

"Please, Killian", Emma reaches for his hand, but unlike his older counterpart who had held her hand for days, this one objects to holding it even for a moment, wrenching his arm away and turning his back on her.

"I've been trying to find a reason that would require you leaving the way you did, but the only thing I have discovered is that I knew very little about you."

"I'll tell you everything, but you won't believe me. Not at first", Emma says, her voice shaking as much as her hand does when she lays it on his shoulder. "Will you listen?"

Killian doesn't shake her off this time, but he doesn't turn around either as he contemplates his choices.

"Have you eaten recently?" He finally asks her and walks away in the direction of the kitchen without waiting to see if she's going to follow.

Perhaps he doesn't care.

Emma goes after him and sits at the table with her fingers entwined, watching him take some leftovers from the fridge and shove them in the microwave to warm up, studiously avoiding looking at her.

Once the meal is ready he sets it in front of Emma and crosses his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head to the side in silent encouragement.

Despite all that has happened today, or maybe because of it, Emma is hungry, so she eats, trying to figure out where to even start telling Killian about her condition.

She wishes he had told her about this fight, prepared her somehow instead of letting her walk right into it without a word of warning.

"I'm a time-traveler", she says once she's done eating, deciding to lead with it because Killian looks about ready to tell her to leave anyway.

"And I'm Batman", he says evenly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sarcastic smirk.

"The last time I was in the past was a month ago, and I was with you in the hospital. You were recovering from another surgery and I sat with you until you woke up", she tells him softly, watching for any sign that he might be inclined to believe her.

"You were right", Killian says mildly and starts clearing out the table. "I don't believe you."

"I can't control when I travel or where I go. I can't control how long I stay, but every time I came to see you in the hospital was because I wanted to be with you", she says and Killian drops the dishes in the sink so carelessly that her plate cracks.

"What you're saying is impossible", he says, but the fact that he's not throwing her out is proof enough that he wants it to be possible.

He wants to believe her, and Emma knows why; it's better to think that time had taken her away from him than that she had decided to abandon him of her own free will.

"I am impossible."

"Is that why you always wore such strange outfits? Because you lost your clothes in the time vortex or something?" He asks, his eyebrow shooting up when he turns back to look at her, and she'd swear that his lips twitch a little as if he's trying not to grin.

"Sort of. I can never keep my clothes or jewelry when I travel", she tells him and grips the edge of the table because she wants to go to him, wants him to hold her and tell her that he still loves her.

Their entire future rests on Killian believing her, and she's afraid he won't unless she disappears in front of his eyes.

It's only then that it occurs to her that she had never traveled beyond this point, and that when she disappears, Killian is going to have to wait for years to see her again.

She doesn't know how to tell him that.

"Why didn't you tell me this fantastical story sooner?" Killian asks her softly, and it's clear that although he wants to believe her, he just can't.

"It's difficult to explain. I always feel like I have time because I go back to the past so much, and I never get around to saying and doing things I should", Emma tells him, then sits quietly, waiting for him to say something, to call her a liar or tell her he believes her.

He just seems disappointed in her, and that's worse.

"I was so scared that you had gotten into an accident", he says as he crosses the kitchen and drops on a kitchen chair next to her, his index finger tracing the kitchen surface, his eyes avoiding hers. "That was even worse than thinking that you had just gotten bored of me."

"Killian, I promise you-"

"It doesn't matter why you've been away", he whispers and lifts his gaze to hers, her heart skipping a beat because he still looks at hers like she's the sun, his usual adoration finally shining through. "It only matters that you came back."

"I'll always come back", she says quickly, her hand covering his, and it's not until he grasps her fingers that she feels like she can breathe again.

They don't talk much after that, moving to the couch and kissing, slow and lazy, all the pent up affection pouring out in a healing wave, and when Killian eventually tries to unbutton her jeans he doesn't even ask for an explanation when Emma stops him.

She doesn't know if he's able to tell that she had recently had a baby by her slightly protruding belly, but if he does he doesn't mention it, and they both doze off for a while.

Emma wakes up first and just lies there quietly, watching Killian sleep until the sun sets and the room goes too dark for her to see him.

She can still sense him, still smell his ocean scent and feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips, and it seems impossible that someday she will be gone and he will be left alone with their baby.

A sob wrenches itself from her throat and Killian wakes immediately, his arm pulling her close, his sleepy voice only making her anguish worse.

"What's wrong, love? You can tell me anything."

Emma can't find her voice, so she just clings to him until she's all cried out, and then she begs him to believe her.

"I don't think you'll see me again until we meet in my own time", she tells him, her hands cupping his cheeks and her forehead pressing against his. "You have to believe me, Killian. I never leave you because I want to go."

He pulls away and turns on the lamp on the bedside table, the abruptness of it enough to mess with Emma's genes, making her start to fade.

"Wait for me", Emma says, grabbing Killian's hand and stump and holding on with all her might. "We will meet again."

"Swan", Killian gasps, squeezing her fingers almost to the point of pain, his wide eyes locked on hers until she disappears.

* * *

 **Review?**


	22. Never Enough Time

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you trust me that no matter how grim things look, there is still going to be a happy ending.**

* * *

 _May 13_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 33)_

Killian blinks sleepily and glances at the clock, frowning because he can't believe he had managed to sleep three hours without having been woken by Leo demanding his meal.

The baby monitor is quiet but Killian gets up nonetheless, quickly putting on his prosthetic and making his way to the nursery, flicking on the light in the hallway so as not to startle his son.

He stops dead in his tracks at the doorway because Emma is back, sitting in the overstuffed armchair and feeding Leo, her eyes puffy and red even in the barely-lit room.

"Swan", Killian whispers and comes to kneel next to her, pressing a kiss against her temple and caressing Leo's closed fist with his finger. "What's happened?"

"You were so mad", Emma says and Killian stomach sinks like a ton of rocks because he knows exactly where she'd been.

"I am so sorry, love. I kept thinking how I should warn you, but I know you don't like knowing things beforehand and so I ended up saying nothing", Killian tells her and wishes he could kick his past self for being so hard on Emma.

"Things like this, I want to know", Emma says faintly and adjusts the sleeve of Leo's onesie, smiling at the way he keeps sucking eagerly. "Was daddy feeding you enough, pumpkin?"

"Daddy did his best", Killian says softly and Emma reaches for his hand, telling him that it was just a joke.

"Leo looks well-fed and well-loved", Emma assures him, waiting patiently until he meets her tired eyes and reassuring him with a smile before they both focus their attention on Leo again.

Once their son is done eating Killian reaches for him, intending to put him back into his cot but Emma stands up and carries him to their bedroom, obviously not yet ready to part with him; Killian follows after her, biting his tongue because he's not going to remind her that it was her who always said they wouldn't let their kids sleep with them.

He tries not to think about the fact that Leo is going to be the only child they are going to have.

"Tell me everything", Emma says once they are snuggled under the covers with Leo between them, Emma's fingers entwined with Killian's and her leg trapped between his.

"He is an angel. He rarely cries, and as soon as he's fed he goes back to sleep", Killian says and they both smile because Leo is doing just that, smacking his tiny lips and already drifting back to dreamland.

"Did Elsa help you bathe him?"

"Just once", Killian says, trying to minimize Elsa's presence since he had brought Leo home because he can tell that Emma is sad as it is for not being there with them. "You'll bathe him tomorrow and I'll help you."

"Thank you, Killian", she whispers, and she seems so wistful, so weary of her travels that Killian doesn't know quite what to say beyond "you're welcome". "You should sleep."

"As should you", he tells her, tugging on her hand until she looks at him. "You didn't miss anything, love. I promise you."

"But I will. Eventually I will", Emma says and presses her nose against the side of Leo's head, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as Killian watches, caressing the back of her hand and hunting for words of comfort he doesn't manage to find before exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep.

* * *

Leo is crying and Killian sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes and pushing his fingers through his hair before he sits on the edge of the bed and tries to figure out if he'd just dreamed that Emma had come back last night or if she really did.

His question is answered a moment later when he hears Emma talking to their son, and he smiles to himself, feeling like everything is right with the world for once.

Twenty minutes later Killian has the breakfast ready and carries it to the nursery because he knows Emma won't be inclined to separate from Leo even long enough to go to the kitchen and eat.

"Morning, loves", Killian says and Emma turns to face him, gently rubbing Leo's back to make him burp and grinning when she notices that Killian had brought food.

"Morning. I hope you know you have the best daddy in the world", Emma tells Leo as if it's a big secret and Killian smirks to himself, setting the breakfast tray on the end table and embracing Emma around the waist.

"Let me hold him", Killian says and Emma surrenders Leo reluctantly, gently laying him in Killian's waiting arms and then looking at him with the softest expression on her beautiful face. "What?"

"Nothing, I just… This is the first time I've seen you do that", Emma tells him and Killian feels self-conscious, double-checking that his hold on Leo is firm and that there's no way he's going to drop him. "Hey, it wasn't criticism."

"I know it wasn't", Killian says and sits on the couch, cradling Leo in the crook of his bad arm and motioning for Emma to sit down next to him. "Come eat."

Emma complies, playfully offering Killian a bite which he declines with a shake of his head and a pointed look.

"I know, I know. You've had enough of being fed when you were in the hospital", she says and God he loves her for not making a big deal out of it.

She never did make a big deal of his condition, and he had only realized recently how rare that is when Elsa was here, hovering and in general getting on his last nerve with her urge to have a hand in everything.

It's not that he wasn't grateful she was there to help because there are some things you just can't do one-handed, but she wanted to do even the things he is perfectly capable of doing on his own and that's not his idea of parenting.

As if on cue, Leo starts crying and Killian carries him to the changing table, turning to look at Emma when she chuckles.

"You must be the only dad who volunteers for diaper duty", Emma explains her amusement and Killian looks down at Leo, at his tiny hands and feet and big blue eyes, and he thinks that those other hypothetical dads must be crazy not to want to participate in every aspect of raising their children, even dealing with dirty diapers.

"I should hope not", Killian says and unsnaps Leo's onesie, talking to him as he pulls it off and throws the used diaper in the trash.

"Can I help?" Emma asks from beside him and he starts a little because he was so focused on Leo that he didn't even hear her approach.

"Give me a clean one. That drawer", Killian says and points with his chin, holding Leo's dancing feet between the fingers of his fake hand as he wipes him clean, and Emma slips a new diaper underneath his butt, leaving it to Killian to secure it.

Leo falls asleep before they even finish putting a fresh onesie on him.

"We make a good team, don't we, love?" Killian asks and Emma beams at him, standing up on tiptoes and giving him a kiss before she agrees.

She rests her head on his shoulder and he embraces her, storing this memory in his heart for safekeeping, just in case there won't be as many of them as he'd like.

* * *

A couple of feedings and nap times later, Emma and Killian are in the bathroom giving Leo a bath, with Killian holding him over the little tub while Emma gently washes his tiny limbs, both of them smiling serenely because Leo absolutely adores the water.

"Dr. Ingrid thinks I should start the gene therapy this week", Emma says and Killian grits his teeth, wishing for just a moment of peace where he could forget the sword hanging over their heads.

The truth is, even if Emma hadn't brought it up, he still wouldn't forget and he supposes that neither would she.

"When did u see Dr. Ingrid?"

"I disappeared from the hospital, remember? Almost gave some girl a heart attack when I appeared in her room, but it was dark so hopefully she didn't see my face", Emma says and tickles Leo's neck, his arms and legs splashing in the water. "You are such a happy baby, aren't you, Leo? Mommy's little angel."

"I guess the sooner you start the therapy, the greater chances that it will work by the time…" Killian trails off and focuses on holding Leo, unable to look at Emma and see his own despair mirrored in her eyes.

"I need you to believe", Emma says and he looks up, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest at the thought that Emma might doubt his belief.

"I do believe, Swan. I know you will be alright even if the good doctor doesn't figure out how to make you stop traveling", Killian tells her, and he hopes that there's enough conviction in his voice to make her believe too.

For a while the bathroom is quiet aside from the sound of the water running and Leo's occasional gurgle, and it's only as they are wiping him dry that Emma speaks again.

"I still want to film Leo a video", she says, almost too soft for Killian to hear, and he can't tell her that the reason he doesn't want her to do it is because it would feel like admitting defeat.

They have over a year left and it's too early in the fight to throw the towel down.

He tells her that he'll gladly help her.

A few hours later, he honors his promise, and Emma sits on the couch in the living room facing the camera phone in his hand and rubbing her thighs with her palms as she gathers her thoughts; when she's ready, she gives him a nod and Killian presses record, holding his breath and giving her an encouraging smile.

"Hi, Leo. It's mom", Emma says and waves in Killian's direction, smiling brightly before she continues. "Your dad thinks it's a waste of time that I'm going this because I'll be there for you as you grow up, but I say better safe than sorry."

Killian shakes his head at her and mouths "traitor", which prompts Emma to stick her tongue out at the camera, then informs their son that it was meant for his dad.

"I am a time-traveler. It probably seems fun to you at your age, but it's mostly not; what it is is dangerous", Emma says, her smile slipping away for a moment, her eyes seeking Killian's for support. "If you're watching this, I'm dead, but the wonderful thing about time-travel is that I might still show up someday."

Killian's hand shakes and he grips the phone tighter, afraid he's going to drop it and make Emma go through this again.

"I want you to know that I love you, and that I will always love you. You're only a week old but you already mean the world to me and your dad, and I'll never stop thanking my lucky stars for sending you our way."

Emma blinks and tears roll down her cheeks, making Killian's fingers itch to wipe them away, but she's not finished and he doesn't want to interrupt.

"You're probably going to wonder about me, about who I was and what I wanted from life, but I think that the most important thing about me, about any person really, is who and what they loved. I love you and your father, I love Elsa and Mary Margaret, I love helping people down at the shelter and I love the art that your father makes. Knowing him, he's probably going to abandon that for a while after I'm gone, so it will be your job to make him try again."

Emma wipes at her face and gives the camera a brave smile, then blows an air kiss in Killian's direction.

"I love you, Leo, and remember, whenever you're afraid just think about me, because I promise never to leave your side, whether you can see me or not."

Emma closes her eyes and Killian stops the recording, dropping the phone on the coffee table before he sits next to Emma and folds her into his embrace, his fingers sifting through her silky hair as she sobs against his chest.

He holds desperately onto the belief that he won't ever have to show Leo the recording and rocks her gently long after her tears have run dry.

* * *

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	23. Quickening

**Angst is coming, but keep the faith in the happy ending because it's already been written. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!**

* * *

 _July 26_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 29, Killian is 33)_

Emma appears in the living room and finds herself face to face with Leo, who's lying in his carrier and trying to reach the mobile above his head.

"Hey, pumpkin", Emma says and reaches for his hand, but he starts wailing the second she touches him, so she pulls her hand back and hastily takes the blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around herself like a toga.

"What's wrong, laddie?" Killian calls and halts in the doorway when he sees Emma, both relief and heartbreak crossing his face before it settles into a welcoming smile. "Hello, Swan."

"I think I frightened him", Emma says sheepishly and Killian picks up the carrier, settling it on the coffee table facing the couch and waving Emma to sit down next to him.

"Shhh, little love. It's just mommy", Killian says and lays his hand on Leo's chest, leaning closer and making ridiculous faces until Leo quiets, his big blue eyes following Killian's every move. "Talk to him."

Emma takes the closest stuffed animal off the couch which happens to be Kermit the frog and starts playing peekaboo with Leo, but he's not enthusiastic about it at all.

The failure to make her own kid laugh makes her want to weep, but it shouldn't surprise her because she'd been traveling more than been home since she started taking Dr. Hopper's pills.

"Come here", she finally gives up on Kermit and takes Leo out of his carrier, but as soon as she cradles him to her chest he starts crying, his face going red and his fists waving angrily in the air. "Killian."

"He's just tired", Killian says smoothly and takes Leo from her, cradling their son's head against his shoulder and rocking from side to side. "Shhhh, it's alright. Everything is alright."

Leo quiets and Emma feels her eyes burn with tears, so she gets up and escapes into the bathroom, ignoring Killian when he calls her name.

She manages to step under the spray before the tears come, burning in her throat and mixing with the water that falls on her head and shoulders, her forehead pressed against the shower wall, her body heaving with sobs.

Dr. Hopper keeps telling her that it's only a matter of time before they find the right combination of meds but she doesn't have a lot of time to waste, and that's exactly what she'd been doing, to the point of her own son being afraid of her.

The tears come faster and she doesn't try to hold them back, crying for everything that she wants and can't have, and for everything that she's going to miss out when she's gone for good.

"Love?" Killian says from the other side of the shower curtain and Emma freezes, biting her lip because she doesn't want him to hear her cry. "Leo went out like a light."

Emma doesn't say anything to that because she knows what Killian is trying to do and she can't stand it right now; she loves him for it, but a part of her wants him to get mad because then it wouldn't seem like just her decision to say the hell with Dr. Hopper and his therapy.

The bathroom is quiet but she knows he hadn't left, and since she's all cried out anyway she closes the water and reaches out her hand, knowing that Killian is going to pass her the towel even if she doesn't ask for it.

And so he does.

"You're obviously waiting for me to say it, so I will; the therapy is making you worse", Killian says as she's drying herself and Emma shakes her head, half-heartedly telling him that it's too soon to know for sure. "You come back and you're gone a day later."

"It's not easy coming by Dr. Hopper's pills in the past. If I keep stealing from the hospital pharmacy eventually I'll get caught."

"You won't", Killian tells her offhandedly and she gives him a stern look which he completely ignores.

"I need to stick with it a while longer", Emma says resolutely and steps out of the bathroom, across the hallway and into their bedroom, comforted by the way he follows her in, leaning against the edge of the dresser and watching her as she tugs on fresh clothes. "I'm sorry I've been away for so long."

"It's not something you can help", Killian says softly and she pauses with one leg inside a pair of jeans and the other out, then takes them off again and walks up to Killian, her hands sliding beneath his t-shirt, fingertips ghosting up his back.

"I'm still sorry", she tells him and stands up on tiptoes to kiss him, firm and hot, but although he kisses her back he doesn't lead her toward their bed or unclasp her bra the way she expects him to.

"Is it okay if we just talk for a while?" He asks almost shyly, so apologetic and uncertain that it makes her heart squeeze in her chest.

If their circumstances were any different she'd be worried about the fact that he just declined a blatant sex offer but she is a time-traveler and he spends his days taking care of their son while she's stuck in the past, so she's not.

"Of course", she tells him and kisses the dimple on his cheek that appears when he smiles and leads him back to their bed where they lie down facing each other, holding hands and talking about everything that's happened since Emma was last there.

 _December 7_ _th_ _2013\. (Emma is 30, Killian is 33)_

It's been two months since Emma told Dr. Hopper that she's done with his therapy, but Killian still doesn't want to talk about the inevitable outcome of her travels.

Emma is currently sitting on the couch with a book in her lap she hadn't even glanced at in half an hour, watching Killian draw Leo who's sitting on a blanket playing with a bunch of colorful cubes Emma had bought for him last week.

He's building a tower and Emma wonders if he's going to end up being a civil engineer or an architect or something altogether different, her eyes burning with tears the way they do often now because soon it's going to be New Year, and then it's going to be her last.

She is never going to be older than thirty and her son is going to lose a mother at the age of one, and that knowledge often leaves her breathless with pain.

"Breathe, Swan", Killian says almost offhandedly, his eyes meeting hers for just a moment before he goes back to looking between Leo and the paper, and Emma heaves out a few sighs before she manages to find a normal rhythm again.

Leo pushes the tower and laughs when it collapses, then opens and closes his fists, reaching for Emma, and she scoops him up in her arms, kissing his chubby cheeks and laughing at Killian's long-suffering sigh because he was still not done with the drawing.

"Sorry, daddy. Leo wanted mommy."

"It's fine. I was done a while ago, but I just wanted to make it perfect", Killian says and something in the tone of his voice grabs Emma's attention, making her shift her attention from Leo to study Killian's face.

"What are you up to?"

Killian looks at her from under his eyelashes, then studies his drawing for a few more moments before he comes to kneel in front of the couch and offers her the drawing, his eyes bright and steady on hers.

She's almost afraid to look down, but eventually she does, and there's Leo, sitting on his blanket with his toy cubes strewn around him.

The cubes have letters on them, and they spell a question Emma hadn't really expected to hear.

"Will you marry me, love?" Killian asks, his voice catching a little when he takes a suede box out from his jeans pocket and holds it in his palm, his smile a sudden and beautiful thing when she nods and reaches for it.

"Yes, I will", she says and they both laugh because Leo is grabbing for the box too, curious and impatient for his mother to get on with the business of taking the ring out of it. "You put it on me."

Killian's hand shakes a little when Emma spreads her fingers, but the ring fits her perfectly, catching the sun and shining brightly as Leo chirps happily to himself and pokes the box with his fingers.

"I love you so much", Emma whispers and leans in for a kiss, and when she tastes tears she's not sure if they are hers or Killian's.

"And I love you", Killian echoes, his fingers squeezing hers almost to the point of pain.

Emma doesn't mind.

 _March 7_ _th_ _2014\. (Emma is 30, Killian is 33)_

It's the morning of Emma's wedding again because the first time around she disappeared just before the event and Killian was left to explain to their guests that while the bride didn't show, the wedding was not off and the guests could proceed straight to the dinner and dancing portion of the day.

This time, Emma feels good about the whole thing because the party was already held, and now it's just up to her to get to the City Hall on time and say "I do".

Killian had spent the night on Robin's couch and Emma would mourn his absence if the occasion wasn't so special, and since they've settled on 11 a.m. for the ceremony, she won't have to wait much longer to see him again.

"Mama", Leo keeps repeating until Emma exchanges a look with Elsa in the mirror and they shift in tandem because Elsa has her hands full of Emma's hair; Leo's beaming face is going to be compensation enough for an up-do that might end up looking a little bit crooked.

"What is it-", Emma cuts herself off because her little boy is standing up, holding onto the rail of his cot and grinning proudly before his shaky legs give out and he plops back on his butt, giggling when Emma picks him up and showers him with kisses, her heart feeling like it might burst from all the love she feels for him. "You can stand!"

Leo tugs on her hair and Emma remembers Elsa, who looks at her with wide eyes, shaking her head when she glances at the clock.

"We don't have time to start over", Elsa says apologetically and releases Emma's hair, smiling at Leo and tickling him under the chin before he follows Emma back to her vanity.

"Just do your best", Emma says and sits down holding Leo on her lap and letting him play with her loose curls, and she does not let herself cry.

Today she won't think about anything except all the wonderful people she's got in her life; first and foremost, her son, who snuggles close to her, his warm breath fanning her collarbone, his body soft and wiggly in her arms.

People like Elsa, who ends up making a lot of little braids and fashioning them into a lovely crown, then drives the three of them to the City Hall, in front of which Mary Margaret waits, looking like a proud mother even though Emma doesn't think she'd ever been one.

Today, Emma takes her arm as if she really is her mother and Mary Margaret walks her down the short aisle where Killian waits next to Robin, the look of awe on his face making Emma's smile even wider.

Ruby holds Leo while Elsa and Robin flank Emma and Killian, and they say "I do" without any hesitation, looking into each other's eyes and knowing that what they have won't ever fade or become just a habit.

Emma slides the wedding ring on the fourth finger of Killian's right hand and feels something inside her loosen, a new surge of hope singing through her veins and whispering in her ear not to give up yet.

Killian fumbles a little with her ring, his cheeks flushing in frustration, but then she lies her hand on his arm and he looks up at her, instantly steadied, and his smile is just for her, like a shared secret that nobody else is privy too.

He doesn't say anything except "I do", but Emma hears something else, something much more substantial.

 _Hold on, love._

And she does.

* * *

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	24. No Good in Goodbye

**I am terribly sorry for this chapter; there's three more left, plus the epilogue, so hold on tight, and enjoy.**

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 _April 10th 2014. (Emma is 30, Killian is 34)_

Killian is in the kitchen cooking lunch, half-listening to Emma's voice coming from the living room where she's trying to encourage Leo to walk.

"He's going to do it in his own time", Killian yells, setting the colander in the sink to drain the pasta, the handle slipping out of his hand when Emma appears out of thin air, scaring the living daylights out of him.

"Killian", she croaks and he barely manages to set the pot on the counter without spilling the boiling water on his hand, so a few seconds pass before he looks at her and discovers that she's bleeding, her hands clutching at some kind of wound in her side.

Everything stops except for the blood seeping through her fingers and they stay motionless, his eyes slowly lifting to hers and finding them wide with shock and pain.

"Killian", she repeats his name, softer this time and then her knees buckle, and he's cradling her in his lap without remembering how he came to be sitting on the floor, his hand joining hers in an attempt to keep her from bleeding to death.

"Swan, please", he whispers, his eyes locked on hers, the whole world narrowing just to her face and a dash of red in his periphery vision.

"It's okay", Emma tells him, her hand rising to cup his cheek. "I don't regret a single moment we spent together."

"Just hold on, love, just hold on", he says but she's already fading, disappearing before his very eyes in more ways than one.

"Oh God", the other Emma exclaims but he doesn't even look at her, blocking out everything but the sad green eyes of the woman dying in his arms.

"I love you", he says, hugging Emma closer and entwining his fingers with hers, squeezing tightly but to no avail.

She fades away with a smile and he's left with empty, blooy arms and a crushed heart, only distantly aware of the fact that Leo is crying somewhere close by.

"Shhh, it's alright", Emma coos to Leo as she sits on the floor next to Killian, her pale, slender hand reaching for his, but he can't stand the idea of staining it with blood, so he snatches his hand away and clambers to his feet. "Killian-"

"I can't- I should clean up. Take Leo back to the living room", Killian manages to say, his throat burning with unshed tears; he wants to reach for her, her wants to hold her and tell her that it will be okay, but it would be a lie because they have both witnessed her future and it's not something that can ever be forgotten.

He turns away and leans over the sink, sudden dizziness overtaking him and making the kitchen spin; his chest is too tight, his ears ringing as his slippery fingers grope the counter, leaving a bloody mark like the one staining the floor behind him.

Somewhere out there Emma is dying, and there's not a bloody thing he can do about it.

Killian punches the window frame, the pain exploding from his knuckles up into his arm, centering him enough to allow him to focus on what he needs to do.

First, he washes his hand with water that's a little bit too hot, which leaves his skin red where it's not torn from the abusing punch he'd thrown earlier.

Second, he grabs a dish rag and wipes the counter clean, removing any trace of his bloody fingertips and burying the rag deep in the trash so Emma won't see it.

Last, he cleans the floor, but not even the flowery scent of Ajax can mask the heavy odor of blood hanging in the air.

It's only then that he realizes he's got blood on his jeans and shirt too, and he wishes for nothing but to wake up from this nightmare without any memory of having it.

He squeezes his eyes shut but when he opens them, he's still standing in the spotless kitchen covered in Emma's blood.

Killian grits his teeth and puts away the cleaning supplies, taking one last look around to make sure everything is ship shape before he makes his way to the bathroom; Emma comes out of the nursery just as he reaches it and follows him inside, closing the door and leaning against it as if waiting for permission to come closer.

His eyes fill with tears and blinks fast but still feels them roll down his cheeks; he finds that he's not strong enough to hold them back, not even for Emma's sake.

A moment later she's wrapping him in her arms and they are sinking to the floor together, his ragged sobs echoing in the bathroom as they squeeze each other too tight, holding on for dear life even though they know it can't last.

Emma rubs his back and he inhales her scent, waiting for her to tell him that everything will be okay, but she remains quiet because she never could lie to him.

"I should shower", Killian says what feels like days later and Emma nods mutely, standing up and offering him her hand to pull him to his feet, then quickly takes off his prosthetic and sets it aside; it usually makes him feel awkward when she does that, but he's too numb to care today, just lifts his arms when she tugs his shirt up and off and lets her undress him completely.

He can guess that she wants to take care of him while she still can, and he's not inclined to stop her even if it makes him remember the hospital and the times when he couldn't actually do something as simple as undress himself.

Emma's clothes aren't as badly ruined as his, but she still takes them off and rolls everything in a tight ball before she turns on the shower and leads Killian in by the hand, her fingers erasing the bloody marks from his body but not even her warmth and the water cascading over them can soothe the chill from his bones.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that", she says and kisses his bruised knuckles, then presses close and wraps her arms around his waist as if she means to hold him together by sheer power of will.

"I'm not", he tells her, his fingertips tracing patterns into the smooth skin of her back when she looks up at him in surprise.

"I was dying and you had to watch it happen", she says, her voice even as if she's not really talking about herself.

"Precisely. I would give the world to be able to breathe my last in your arms", he tells her, and understanding finally downs on her face.

"There's worse ways to go", she agrees and he caresses her cheeks with his knuckles, tracing the fine lines of her face with his eyes, making a conscious effort to commit every single freckle to memory.

Their eyes meet and hold, and he can tell that she's so scared, so weary of running and starving and being cold, but there's a promise in the sad smile she gives him, a silent oath that she will not quit because it's not over until it's over.

Even if they are coming closer and closer to the moment when horrible future becomes the unbearable present.

 _August 6th 2014. (Emma is 30, Killian is 34)_

"Wakie wakie, dada", Leo says and Killian opens his eyes to find both his wife and his son looking at him, their golden heads tilted to the side.

"What time is it?" Killian asks and rubs his eyes, smiling when Leo pokes his arm before walking over the bed and pulling at Killian's hand.

"Up", Leo demands and Killian gives Emma the eyebrow but she just shrugs elegantly and tells him it's past nine and his son wanted his daddy.

"You don't have to yell, baby", she adds when Leo repeats his order and Killian gathers him close, growling playfully and tickling him until Leo shrieks with laughter.

For a precious moment Killian forgets.

For a precious moment the three of them have all the time in the world.

And then he looks at Emma and she doesn't hide the tears in her eyes quick enough, his elated grin slipping, his stomach tying itself into knots because today might be their last day.

It's August and Emma won't live to see September, won't watch Leo play in the fallen leaves for the first time, won't watch him splash through the puddles in the driveway wearing the blue boots she'd bought him, won't see him grow up to be a man she can be proud of.

"Don't you dare get melancholy on me", she tells him, her eyes flashing with warning because he's gritting his teeth in an attempt to hold himself together.

"'eo eat eat?" Their son asks, entirely oblivious to anything but his tummy and Killian somehow makes his lips smile when he asks his son what he wants for breakfast.

Leo answers in his usual gibberish but Killian nods encouragingly nonetheless, and promises to add chocolate sprinkles to his oatmeal.

"Really? Chocolate for breakfast?" Emma asks, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead, a fond smile tugging up the corners of her mouth as she ruffles Leo's hair.

"I said chocolate sprinkles", Killian defends his food choice with mock exasperation and Emma giggles, straddles his hips and starts a tickle war, so very beautiful with her sparkling green eyes and the sunlight caught in her hair. "Unfair! Four hands against one!"

"No mercy!" Emma yells and he roars with laughter, trying to wiggle away as Leo keeps poking him. "Do you surrender?"

"Never", Killian tells her and finally manages to reach that sensitive spot at the base of her spine that always makes her dissolve into giggles and then she's the one raising the white flag.

"Let's go, pumpkin. If we don't start on the breakfast soon it's going to be noon by the time we eat", she says after they've stopped laughing and gives each of them a quick kiss, her fingers lingering on Killian's shoulder for a moment before she gets up from the bed and helps Leo down, her ponytail swinging when she turns to look at Killian over her shoulder.

"Don't make us wait", she tells him and she follows Leo out of the room, leaving Killian to his morning routine he does as fast as he's able.

Fifteen minutes later he's entering the living room when there's a sound of glass breaking coming from the kitchen, his heart instantly starting to slam against his ribcage as he leaps over the coffee table and calls Emma's name.

He slides into the kitchen and finds her leaning against the counter, fading even as she reaches for him.

"Emma, no", he gasps, skirting around a chair and making a wild grab for her hand, but she's too far gone and all he feels is tingling in his fingers, his eyes locking on hers desperately because he can't anchor her anymore.

"It's not your fault", she tells him and then it's over and he's reaching down to pick up a pile of clothes that's still warm from her body.

"Dada", Leo says and Killian swallows thickly, tells himself that this was not the end and swears to keep a better watch over Emma next time she's about to travel. "Dada ouchy."

"What's wrong, little love?" Killian asks and turns around, only then realizing that he'd stepped on broken glass in his haste to get to Emma and left a bloody trail across the kitchen. "Don't worry, laddie. Daddy's alright."

Leo starts coming closer and Killian throws Emma's clothes on the floor between them, then limps over and picks his son up, checking the soles of his tiny feet and breathing a sigh of relief when it turns out Leo is alright.

"Sit here for a bit", Killian says and deposits Leo in his high chair despite his protests, talking to him as he cleans up his foot, an acute sense of déjà vu coming over him until he remembers that the last time he had pulled glass out of flesh likes this was soon after Emma moved in next door.

Just like then, he's back to waiting, but this time he's praying twice as hard that she will come back, refusing to even entertain the possibility that he'd already seen the last of her.

He hadn't even said goodbye and she hadn't even gotten one last good day with Leo, and although Killian learned a long time ago that life isn't exactly fair, he simply cannot believe that it would be this unfair.

Emma had certainly thought that it could, and she believed that she wouldn't be coming back, so she had made sure to give Killian absolution for what he had failed to do.

 _It's not your fault_ , she had told him, but he rather thinks it is as he slides his thumb against his wedding ring, doing his best to ignore the gaping hole in his heart that is threatening to swallow him whole.

Leo needs to eat, and Killian finds it easier to breathe when he focuses on that.

"Let's see about that breakfast, shall we, little love?" Killian says and ends up adding grapefruit to Leo's oatmeal instead of chocolate sprinkles.

It's what Emma would have wanted.

* * *

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	25. Fate

**Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story, for reviewing and favoriting and reading; all the effort was worth it. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

 _April 14_ _th_ _2004\. (Emma is 30, Killian is 24)_

Emma finds herself in a back alley, kneeling behind a Dumpster almost on top of a homeless person who smells like the distillery and luckily doesn't wake up when she moves away.

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she steals the coat draped over a ratty shopping cart, and although she feels awful for her act, she ignores the guilt because she is probably hours or less from a certain death anyway; karma has it for her no matter what she does.

It's only as she's exiting the alley that it occurs to her that she could have just been murdered over a coat so she lengthens her steps and heads for the nearest parking lot.

Boston is still sleeping, the sun only just rising, and Emma feels like the last woman on Earth, wandering around an abandoned city.

She passes by a bus stop and stops dead in her tracks because there's an ad for Killian's first and only exhibit, and the digital display across the street tells her that it's today.

Emma feels a chill run down her spine because this feels like too big a coincidence to be anything but a sign, and she feels like she's standing in front of a fork in the road, one path leading to salvation and the other one to doom.

The only trouble is, she doesn't know which is which, so she delays her decision and goes to steal a car instead.

* * *

A few hours later Emma is sitting on a park bench eating ice-cream and watching the clouds drifting across the sky, enjoying the sun on her face and trying to figure out what to do.

If Emma had been faced with the same choice before she had first met Killian she wouldn't have a dilemma; she would just stay far away from him because he didn't know her before his accident, and therefore, their meeting would have untold consequences Emma wouldn't dare risk.

The sky is almost as blue as Killian's eyes and Emma can practically hear his voice in her head telling her to take a leap of faith, to take charge of her own fate for once.

Logically, it would make the most sense to do something completely different than her usual, but she's still afraid, everything in her rebelling against the idea of tempting fate after a lifetime of avoiding conflict.

The image of Leo's dimpled smile flashes in her mind and she realizes that there's just one thing she can do if she ever hopes to see him and Killian again.

She has to fight and that means going to see her husband's paintings tonight.

"I'm coming for you, Killian Jones", Emma says under her breath and fingers the wad of cash in her pocket, her lips stretching into a wry smile as she exits the park.

* * *

Emma spends the afternoon shopping for a perfect dress and shoes, then sneaks into a gym and uses their bathroom to get ready, her resolve strengthening the longer nothing happens to her; she's starting to believe that she's doing the right thing, and it's a heady feeling to finally do what she wants instead of what she thinks she should to appease the universe.

When she gets to the gallery she feels like she's got butterflies in her stomach, and she's glad that there's a lot of people already there even though she's the only one who bothered with a fancy dress.

It should make her feel uncomfortable, but she feels bold and ready to face anything, except Killian, so she focuses on his paintings instead.

She still remembers the day he had finally shown them to her, how he looked at her from under his eyelashes and held his breath for her reaction, his smile the brightest thing in the world when she called them beautiful.

"You either really like that one or you absolutely hate it", Killian says and Emma turns slowly, half-expecting lightning to strike when she finally lays eyes on him.

He is twenty-four years old, his eyes are sparkling with mischief and he still has both hands, but he is her Killian and she is his Emma and in that moment, the rest of the world simply ceases to exist.

"Killian Jones", he introduces himself and they shake hands, a spark jumping between them when he holds her hand slightly longer than necessary.

"Emma Swan", she says and turns back toward the painting, resolute to play it cool and see how tonight goes. "I love this one."

"Go out with me and it's yours", Killian says and she laughs, temping down the sudden urge to kiss his bashful smile and drag him somewhere private.

"Does that line actually work on women?"

"You tell me. I've never used it before you, love", Killian tells her and scratches behind his ear with his left hand, her eyes following the motion greedily before she remembers herself and tells him she's just passing through, so she doesn't have anywhere to put his painting. "I'll set it aside for you until you're ready to take it."

Emma smiles and bites her lip, trying to look like she's thinking it through, enjoying the way he rocks on his heels in anticipation.

"Alright, I guess."

"Tomorrow night?"

"I'm only here tonight", she says with a shrug and it's her turn to hold her breath to see if he's willing to leave his own exhibit just so he could spend time with her even though she just told him she's leaving soon.

"What are we waiting for, then?" He asks and holds out his hand, Emma's fingers tingling even before they come into contact with his; once they do there's a flutter inside her and she knows without a doubt that she had just changed her future.

She doesn't know if it's for better or worse, but looking at Killian's profile as he leads her through the gallery casually saying goodbye to his surprised friends, Emma can't help thinking that everything is going to be okay.

"Well then. Where do you wish us to go?" Killian asks when they exit the gallery, still holding her hand and looking at her as if he'd never seen anything as beautiful as her face.

"Surprise me."

"Would it be too presumptuous of me to take you home so that I can paint you?" He asks with a sheepish smile that warms Emma up inside even before he shrugs out of his leather jacket and drapes it around her shoulders.

"Just a tiny bit", Emma tells him and points out the fact that they've just met. "You could be a serial killer."

"Three dozen people just saw you leaving with me, and even if they hadn't I wouldn't dream of hurting you", Killian says and he looks slightly offended that she could think him capable of such an atrocious act.

"How about you buy me a drink first and we see how that goes?" Emma says and walks backwards in the direction of the closest bar, pulling him along.

"As you wish", Killian agrees and caresses the back of her hand with his thumb as they walk, then playfully asks her if she knows where she's going.

"I know this city like the back of my hand", Emma reassures him and he lifts an eloquent eyebrow, making her remember that she had told him she's just passing through. "Don't worry, Jones. I won't get us lost."

"I wouldn't mind getting lost with you, Swan", he shoots back and oh how she loves him like this, so carefree and smooth and endearing at the same time.

"Maybe someday you will", she tells him softly and swings their arms as they walk, coming up with the usual fantastical answers to his questions that made him grin when he was in hospital and make him laugh now, the sound rumbling through her and making her feel content even with the threat hanging over her head.

She's with Killian, and that's what she chooses to focus on instead of letting the fear ruin what might very well be her last night on Earth.

* * *

It takes Killian exactly two drinks to convince Emma to go home with him (or, rather, she stops fighting herself and gives in) and another to loosen her up enough to pose for him lying down on the couch.

He doesn't have a studio but he's got a studio apartment that's full of canvases in various stages of completion, and most of the furniture he owns looks older than the two of them put together with streaks of paint on every piece.

"Take off your shoes", Killian instructs her and Emma gives him a sideways look but complies anyway before settling down on her side, her head resting on her outstretched arm and her hair spilling over the edge of the couch. "You are absolutely stunning like that, Swan."

"Just like this?" She teases and it amuses her immensely that it's so easy to make him blush, turn him from a cocky dreamboat into a shy artist in the blink of an eye.

"Try to stay still", Killian tells her and arranges her hair to his liking, their faces inches apart because he's kneeling next to the couch; it would be so easy to reach for him and pull him down for a kiss but Emma feels that it's important that Killian paints her first so she obeys his instructions, watching him paint and thinking how she's never going to get tired of it.

There's a frown etched between his dark brows and his eyes are sharp and bright, but what makes him so beautiful is the look of deep concentration on his face as he creates something wonderful using just paint and his own talent.

Killian looks at Emma differently when he paints, making her feel oddly exposed, but it's him so it's not a bad feeling; if anything, it's strangely liberating, and it makes her feel lighter, all her troubles brushed away by her artist's loving hand.

"Falling asleep on me, love?" He asks her softly and she blinks, realizing that she actually was.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. We can take a break", he says and sets down the brush, sitting next to her on the couch and tracing her cheek with his knuckles, his eyes watching hers to gauge her reaction.

He is so very young, his eyes so very blue with hopeful wonder, with adoration that would be suspicious if it were coming from anybody but him, and Emma feels something loosen in her chest, the torment of years and years of fear and pain erased because no matter what happens, she was here, and more important, she was loved.

She was so loved.

Emma leans into Killian's touch and covers his hand with hers, giving him unspoken permission to kiss her the way she knows he wants to, her eyes fluttering closed when he starts leaning down, the touch of his lips to hers sending an electric charge through her body.

They've kissed a thousand times before and they've had several first kisses, but this one feels special, epic and breathtaking and so heavy with purpose neither can understand.

It is a kiss that defies both death and time, a kiss that makes the universe pay attention for once and changes Emma's fate.

She wraps her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him down, sighing when he embraces her and pushes his knee between her legs, holding her as close and possible and still kissing her, setting her skin on fire and making the world stop turning for just an instant, before it starts again, different and brand new.

Killian makes love to her gently, driving her crazy with slow strokes and endearments whispered against her ear, their fingers entwined above her head as he thrusts into her, his gaze filled with such awe she can't help a blush that colors her cheeks and makes him even more enthusiastic to bring her to completion first.

Afterwards, they lie quietly on his narrow couch, their noses brushing together and their eyes closed, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.

Emma can tell exactly the moment he falls asleep and she snuggles deeper into his embrace, so sated and pleasantly aching that she doesn't even attempt to fight her own exhaustion.

She doesn't know what tomorrow will bring, but she's got faith that she's going to live to see it because she had picked the right path.

The one that lead to Killian.

The one that lead to love.

The one she would take a thousand times over, no matter the consequences.

* * *

 **Review?**


	26. On Our Own

**This is the last angsty chapter that's left in this story, so I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the wonderful feedback!  
**

* * *

 _August 18_ _th_ _2014\. (Killian is 34)_

Killian has been taking care of Leo on his own since the beginning, but this time is different. This time is harder, this time it feels impossible to even entertain the notion of getting out of bed, much less to deal with an exuberant fifteen month old that keeps asking about Emma.

"Dada", said fifteen month old says from the edge of the bed and Killian resist the urge to press Emma's pillow to his face and pretend he's not there.

The pillow still smells like Emma and it feels like a vicious kick in the gut every time he inhales, but he doesn't even want to think about the day he won't be able to smell her anymore; he welcomes the torture because the alternative is much worse.

"Dada", Leo repeats and Killian opens his eyes to find his son trying to clamber up on the bed, giving Killian an exasperated look that reminds him so much of Emma that his chest feels too tight, the tiny spark of hope inside him dimming a little bit more.

"Come 'ere, laddie", Killian says, his voice thick with unshed tears as he scoops Leo up and settles him in the crook of his bad arm, tucking the covers around them both.

"No sleep", Leo tells him as soon as Killian closes his eyes, rolling over and perching triumphantly on Killian's chest. "Mama?"

"I don't know where she is, sweetheart", Killian says, and he sounds tired and defeated even to his own ears.

Leo tilts his head to the side with a confused frown, then lies down with his head on Killian's shoulder, hugging his neck and humming under his breath as if he aims to soothe them both.

"We'll be alright", Killian says and kisses the top of his blonde head, absentmindedly rubbing his son's back and wishing he could believe in his own words.

 _August 30_ _th_ _2014\. (Killian is 34)_

The doorbell rings and for a glorious moment Killian thinks it might be Emma coming back, but even before he remembers she had disappeared from the kitchen he can tell it's not her by the shadowy form he sees through the stained-glass of the door.

The disappointment is too great to hide so he gives himself a minute before he opens the door and greets Elsa as pleasantly as he can.

"Emma is still not back?" Elsa asks without preamble, her hands clasped together as if in prayer, and Killian steps aside, inviting her to come in and trying to figure out how to explain what had happened.

Emma had kept putting off saying goodbye to her friends, thinking she would have more time but August is almost over and it's damn time somebody did it for her; it's the last thing Killian wants to do, but he's left with no choice.

As per usual.

"Killian? Are you alright?" Elsa asks once they've settled on the couch, her hand squeezing his arm to get his attention because he's staring out through the window in an attempt to collect his thoughts and find a way to tell Elsa what happened to Emma without falling apart.

"Not really", he says and makes himself meet his wife's best friend's eyes; his sorrow must be written on his face because Elsa presses her hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears even as she shakes her head in an attempt to deny what she knows is true. "She's not coming back, Elsa."

"No, she is. She always comes back."

"Not this time, lass", Killian says, then carefully explains what he thinks had happened without revealing that Emma had known this was coming for months.

He couldn't protect her when it mattered, but he can at least make sure that her friends won't be angry with her.

"Are you sure she's gone?" Elsa asks once he's done, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now, her wide eyes begging him to tell her that there's been some kind of mistake.

"I'm sorry", Killian says and looks away because he's afraid her grief will expose his, shatter the barrier he'd built in the past few weeks because he didn't want Leo to catch on the fact that his mother is not coming back and his father doesn't quite know how to live with that.

"Oh God, Leo. He won't even remember her", Elsa says and Killian looks at her sharply, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth protest when he tells her that he will make bloody sure that doesn't happen. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I'm so sorry."

Emma's best friend is sobbing on his couch and Killian feels awful for snapping at her, but he can't offer her much comfort aside from an awkward side hug she endures for only a minute before Leo runs into the room and launches himself at her legs.

"Sasa", he yells and Elsa hastily wipes her face, greeting Leo with a big smile and gathering him in her lap.

"How are you?"

"Look", Leo ignores Elsa's question and holds up a toy car for her inspection. "Red."

"Do you like red, Leo?"

Killian finds it difficult to watch them like this; their two blonde heads bent together remind him of happier times; the trick tears at his heart, the mirage all wrong because Elsa is not Emma and the idea of her replacing Emma in Leo's heart is too painful to bear.

"Will you watch him? I need fresh air", he says abruptly and doesn't give Elsa time to object, his fingers touching Leo's downy hair before he heads for the hallway where the sight of Emma's red leather jacket nearly undoes him.

The sky is darkening with an impending summer storm but Killian starts walking away from the house nonetheless, shivering in his t-shirt and hunching his shoulders against the cold wind that blows through his hair and whispers in the trees guarding the sidewalks.

He walks quickly, trying to outrun the facts, but it proves to be a futile task.

Tomorrow is the last day of August and Emma did not come back, which means that aside for one brief encounter they will have next month she had told him about, he will never see her again.

The second Killian stops ignoring reality the world around him shifts so that it feels like he's trying to walk on a deck of a ship that's been caught in a storm, and then the sky opens up, rainwater mixing with his tears.

He doesn't stop walking.

The rain stops eventually.

He collapses on some bench and calls Emma's cell phone, listening to the sound of her voice over and over again.

 _I'm away at the moment, leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I come back._

"Come back, love. Just one more time, please", Killian says and hits redial as soon as the line goes dead.

 _September 8_ _th_ _2014\. (Killian is 34)_

As soon as Emma disappears Leo starts crying, trying to wiggle out of Killian's embrace and attracting the concerned looks of other parents from the park.

Killian carries him away and tries to talk to him, tries to soothe him by rubbing his back and kissing his chubby cheeks, but Leo just wants mama and nothing Killian says or does can calm him down.

Somehow, even as young as he is, he senses that they have lost Emma and he's inconsolable, not even the promise of ice-cream enough to make him stop wailing.

Once they get home Killian heads straight for the bedroom and lies Leo down on the bed that's too big for just the two of them, works off his son's shoes and toes off his own before he lies down next to him.

Leo burrows against his side and gradually his sobs give way to even, soft breathing, and Killian wishes he could cry too and then maybe eventually he would be able to find peace, but he finds that he can't.

His eyes are dry even though his heart is raw, even though he feels like he's living in a dark whole where Leo's presence is the only light he will ever see.

Killian tries to think about the first time he'd seen Emma, tries to focus on the sound of her laughter that still sometimes rings in his head and the way she would roll her eyes when he was being ridiculous, tries to tell himself that he should feel blessed for having the privilege to know her and love her and call her his wife, but he does not.

He wants more time with her.

He wants years upon years, he wants to see her with tears in her eyes when Leo eventually finds the love of his life and she tells him "I do" and he wants to witness Emma's hair slowly turning gray as their grandchildren run around the kitchen table and refuse to sit down for dinner.

Killian wants what he cannot have, and the realization that he had seen the last of Emma hurts more today than it did yesterday because she was just here, he had just held her as her silky hair tickled his skin and her small hand held his with familiar strength.

Leo hugs his father's arm to his chest and sighs contentedly, his bangs falling across his forehead and making him wrinkle his nose in his sleep the way Emma used to do; Killian brushes the strands away and closes his eyes, finding oblivion and only a small measure of peace in his sleep.

 _September 20_ _th_ _2014\. (Killian is 34)_

Killian feels like he's still waiting. He makes Leo breakfast and takes him to the park before lunch, then feeds him and puts him down for an afternoon nap, straightening up a bit while Leo sleeps and watches him play in the yard before dinner; all along it feels like the whole world is holding its breath for something.

It's been six weeks since Emma had disappeared which is double the longest time she'd ever been away, but, as morbid as it is, Killian can't help wondering what had happened to her body; if she's truly dead, why hadn't her body returned to him already?

A shudder slinks down Killian's spine and he grits his teeth because he knows bugger all about the post-mortem behavior of a time-traveler's body, but he's aware of the possibility that death might prevent Emma from traveling one last time, forcing Killian to wait forever; he's not sure that having that tiny glimmer of hope would be such a bad thing.

As Killian reads his son a bedtime story it occurs to him that he would surely know if Emma really was dead; their life is not a fairytale but it is a fantastical story, and in those lovers always sensed the moment the other one dies.

All Killian feels is absence, a hole in his heart where Emma had been, and a void so great he knows nothing and no one will ever fill.

"Daddy", Leo says and tugs on a chain hanging around Killian's neck, pulling him out of his reverie and making him realize he'd stopped reading from the storybook.

"Sorry, little love, but it's long past your bedtime", Killian tells him and lays the book on the bedside table before he gently tugs the chain with Emma's ring out of Leo's hand and tucks him in snugly, smoothing back his hair and giving one kiss goodnight to him and another to his stuffed frog. "Good night."

Leo is already half-asleep but Killian remains kneeling next to his bed until he's sure his lad won't wake up if he moves, then tiptoes out and follows the hallway to the living room where he gets the bottle of rum from the top shelf and sets it on the coffee table.

He doesn't even open it, just stares at it for a while, fighting the demons inside that try to tempt him to take a sip; they might think that someday they will win, but Killian knows for a fact that they won't because he loves Leo too much to let Emma's disappearance turn him into an alcoholic.

"I miss you so much, Swan", Killian whispers and returns the bottle to the shelf, then thinks better of it and pours the contents into the kitchen sink, deciding that it's better to be safe than sorry.

Thunder rumbles ominously in the distance and Killian falls asleep in front of the TV, and when he wakes up a while later he drops his prosthetic on the floor, covers himself with the blanket off the back of the couch and stays right where he is.

The couch might be uncomfortable, but his bed is even worse without Emma in it.

* * *

 **Review?**


	27. The Return

**Thank you so much for believing in me and sticking with this story even when it seemed hopeless; this chapter is just fluffy fluff, so enjoy, and see you tomorrow for the Epilogue.  
**

* * *

 _September 24_ _th_ _2014\. (Emma is 30, Killian is 34)_

Emma stumbles and catches herself against the kitchen table, waiting only the briefest of moments for her head to stop spinning before she starts for the living room, coming to an abrupt stop in the hallway when Elsa shrieks and almost drops Leo.

"I'm alive", Emma says as she covers her privates, wishing Elsa would stop staring. "Elsa!"

"We thought you were dead!" Elsa exclaims as she backtracks into the living room where Emma throws on the first garment she encounters, which happens to be Killian's hoodie, but its owner is nowhere in sight.

"Mama, hug", Leo demands and Emma grins at her little boy who opens and closes his fists, twisting himself forward until Emma takes him and showers his cherub cheeks with kisses.

"I missed you so much", Emma whispers and inhales his scent, struggling not to cry because she doesn't want to frighten him. "Where's Killian?"

"He's out", Elsa says, hovering awkwardly beside them until Emma pulls her into a hug with her free arm and tells her she had missed her too. "Every week he calls me to come over and watch Leo and then he leaves for about three hours. Emma, how are you not dead?"

"I don't really know. I changed something in the past, something big… I can't believe it worked."

"Thank God it worked", Elsa says and gives Emma another tight hug before she goes to find her friend some pants.

"You've grown so much, look at you", Emma says, tickling Leo under his chin and putting him down on his blanket so that he can show her his new toys, her eyes filling with tears despite her best efforts to keep them at bay.

"Elsa! I'm back! My memories-", Killian cuts himself off when he notices Emma kneeling next to Leo, and he just stands there looking at her with his mouth half-opened until tears spill down Emma's cheeks and she sees him as a blur coming at her. "Swan."

He drops to his knees in front of her and cups her cheek in his palm, his eyes big and blue when she blinks to clear her vision, his heart hammering against her palm when she braces her hands against his chest.

"Swan", he says, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence, and she can only imagine the hell he'd been through; some of it is evident in the dark circles under his eyes, in the new lines on his forehead and the way he looks at her, but there is a depth to his pain that she can't even hope to uncover unless he decides to talk to her about it.

"Do you remember how we met?"

"Yes, I… I remember both, the hospital and the exhibit", Killian tells her, his gaze so soft on her face, his smile so beautiful it makes her heart hurt. "What did you do, love?"

"I showed fate who's in charge", Emma says with a wry twist of her lips and looks down because Leo keeps poking her leg. "What is it, baby?"

"Mama play with Leo?" He asks with an adorable tilt of his head and Emma laughs, telling him that they will play as long as he likes.

"I brought you sweatpants", Elsa says and Killian lifts his eyebrow at Emma, who hits his shoulder and gives him a warning look before she gets to her feet and quickly gets dressed, ignoring the way Killian stares.

"I need to call Mary Margaret", Emma tells nobody in particular and grabs hold of Elsa's wrist, stopping her from going home.

Killian winks at her and scoops Leo on his lap, his eyes telling her that it's okay; he understands that she wants to make it up to her friends for disappearing without a goodbye, and he's ready to wait a bit longer to have her just for himself.

For once, they have all the time in the world.

* * *

Emma tucks Leo into bed and reads him two bed-time stories but he's still not asleep, looking at her with wide eyes as if he's afraid she'll disappear as soon as he blinks.

"Close your eyes, baby."

Leo utters something that sounds like gibberish but Killian translates from his spot against the doorway where he'd been leaning for the past half hour; he doesn't want to let her out of his sight either.

"Laddie wants you to take him to the zoo tomorrow."

"If you close your eyes and go to sleep we can go to the zoo every day this week", Emma says and bites her lip because that's a promise she might not be able to keep, but Leo nods enthusiastically and hugs Kermit close, finally ready to sleep. "Sweet dreams, sunshine."

"Alone at last", Killian says when they exit Leo's room, immediately pinning her against the wall and just looking at her for a long time, his eyes roaming over her face as he caresses her cheek with his thumb in a soothing motion that makes her feel just a little bit overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry", she tells him because it seems like an appropriate thing to say after you've gone away and consequently had the love of your life mourn you as if you'd died.

"Hey, none of that", Killian says sternly and kisses her when she tries to explain what had happened.

He kisses her eloquently, pouring everything he feels for her in that one kiss, showing her how much he'd missed her and silently telling her he loves her, begging her not to do anything like this again because he doesn't think he'd be able to stand it.

It's a promise she can't give because she's not sure if she can keep it, but she gives it anyway because Killian deserves to know that she's never going to stop fighting for their love.

Killian hoists her up in his arms and carries her to their bedroom, their lips and tongues moving against each other all the way there, but when he lies her down on their bed he hesitates, then lies down beside her and pulls her into a crushing embrace.

Emma returns the hug and tries to come up with something to say, but Killian starts talking instead, squeezing her tightly and apologizing for not holding her hand when she had needed him to the most.

"Don't you dare think it was your fault", she says and tries to pull back to look at him, but his arms are too strong, his embrace like a vice, gentle, but inescapable nonetheless.

"It was my fault. Who knows what would have happened if I had gotten to you in time", Killian says, his voice muffled against her shoulder, his soft, silky hair tickling her chin when she plants a kiss to the top of his dark head.

"There's no use in doing this, Killian. You might have postponed my travel and ended up making it impossible for me to change things", she tells him softly, desperate to make him see that thinking about the past won't do them any good. "I'm here now, and that's the most important thing."

Killian sighs and loosens his grip on her a little, but he's obviously still not ready to face her so Emma just rubs his back and lets him hold her for as long as he likes, which proves to be a long time indeed.

"How did you decide to go to the exhibit?" He finally asks and pulls back just enough so that he can look at her, his hand finding hers and holding on, just in case.

"I didn't have anything left to lose, I guess", Emma says and slides her leg between his, her free hand roaming over the hard planes of his back while she tries to work up the nerve to ask him if he remembers the other exhibit, the one to which she didn't show up.

"Something's bothering you."

"It's not that it bothers me… it's just… I'm just wondering if we messed up your career by leaving so early."

"I was a success both times, only I appeared cooler the second time around because I left with a stunning blonde who was clearly head over heels in love with me", Killian says with a chuckle and Emma rolls her eyes at his description. "It's how the newspapers described you."

"Did you do any painting lately?" Emma asks and Killian looks away, telling her how Leo was a handful and he didn't have any free time. "Killian."

"He was", he says almost petulantly, then lifts his ocean eyes to hers and gives her a heartbreaking smile. "Not to mention the fact that my wife was presumed dead and I didn't feel much like trying to create something beautiful. What would be the point anyway, if you're not there to see it?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make it seem like you can't function properly without me."

"I thought you were dead, Swan. I thought I would never see you again and it felt like all the color has drained from the world. I know it hurts you when I talk like that, but it's the truth", Killian says and Emma doesn't want to hear more, but she lets him say what he needs to say nevertheless. "I'm used to waiting for you to come back. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult, but it's… I can handle your absence when I know you're going to return. This time I thought you wouldn't, and it was like living in a dark hole."

Emma is speechless, completely in awe of the fact that somebody like her who had never mattered to anyone could mean so much to another person, and although it's a heavy burden to bear, being responsible for her husband's happiness, she doesn't object to its weight because she feels exactly the same about him.

If something were to happen to Killian, Emma knows for a fact that she would never be able to look at another painting and recognize its beauty.

"Will you paint me?" She asks him softly, in a whisper meant for his ears only, and Killian brings the back of her hand to his lips, planting a kiss there like a promise, a hope and an absolution all rolled into one.

"First thing tomorrow morning", Killian says and rolls on his back, pulling her along so that she's straddling him, her long hair hanging over her shoulders and tickling his face. "I love you so much, Swan."

"I love you", she echoes, then leans down and kisses him, smiling against his mouth when he pulls down the zipper on his hoodie that she's wearing. "I have to tell you something."

"I'm a little busy right now", he says playfully, his fingers fondling her breast with an unfair amount of skill which leaves her gasping for breath and makes her forget what was so important a moment ago. "You were saying?"

"Don't stop!" Emma exclaims and shrugs out of the hoodie, giving herself over to sensation and smiling to herself because this Killian is so much more skilled than the one she had slept with yesterday despite having one less hand.

"Something funny, love?" Killian wonders before he takes her nipple into his mouth, simultaneously pressing his fingers just so against her, igniting her easily even through the thick material of her sweatpants.

Emma doesn't find her voice for a while, and when she does it's to scream against the pillow as she shatters around her husband, her nails leaving marks on his shoulders and her heart hammering against her ribcage.

She only remembers what she had wanted to tell him when they are both already falling asleep, drowsy and content and happy for the first time in a long while.

"I'm going to ask Dr. Hopper to give me a new therapy", Emma says and feels Killian stiffen a little, and if it wasn't for that she would've thought he'd already fallen asleep.

He's not sleeping, he's just painfully quiet.

"Killian?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Swan", he says on a sigh and she tilts her head back to find him staring at the ceiling.

"What is it that you always tell me? Take a leap of faith?"

"It's not really a leap, love… it's more like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute", he tells her and she traces her index finger against the fine line of his jaw, enjoying the whisper of his scruff on her skin and waiting to speak until he finally meets her gaze.

"But it might just work", she argues her case and presses a kiss against Killian's chin. "Just imagine; someday I might be cured and then you'd never be rid of me."

"I would give everything for that to happen", Killian whispers and slides his fingers through her hair while they both contemplate such a future.

Emma closes her eyes and wishes for it to come as soon as possible, her lips lifting into a smile when Killian takes her hand in his before they both fall asleep.

* * *

 **Review?**


	28. Epilogue

**And here we are at an end of another story; it's been a crazy ride and I can't thank you enough for joining me on it, and for all the wonderful feedback you've given me. I'm not sure when I'll write another story (or if) because I kind of want to try my hand at writing original fiction, but if I do, I hope you are going to read it.  
**

* * *

 _April 5_ _th_ _2015\. (Emma is 32, Killian is 35)_

Killian sits up in bed abruptly, freezing for a moment when he finds Emma's side empty before he remembers that she hadn't traveled since she changed the past. Still, it's the middle of the night and she's not there, so Killian gets up and goes to investigate, smiling to himself when he finds her in their son's room.

"Daddy! Is it breakfast time?" Leo asks enthusiastically and Emma gives Killian "look-what-you've-done" glare over her shoulder, then turns back to Leo and tells him that they all need to sleep for a while longer. "But I'm not tired."

"The sooner you sleep the sooner you can wake up for Daddy's birthday breakfast", Killian says and kneels next to Emma, his arm embracing her as he tucks the covers snugly around their son.

"How long?" Leo asks grudgingly and Emma holds up five fingers, telling him that they will go by faster if he sleeps. "Bedtime story?"

"Leo-"

"Very well."

"Killian-"

"Just a quick one, then", Killian says with a wink and kisses Emma's temple, telling her she can go back to bed.

"I want to hear the story too", Emma murmurs and rests her head against his shoulder, her fingers running through Leo's hair in a soothing motion that makes his eyelids droop.

"Once upon a time there was a runaway princess who was cursed to travel through time", Killian begins and smiles when Leo claps his hands in excitement.

"That's you, Mommy!"

"It's just a story, baby."

"The princess was lonely until she met a dashing pirate captain who helped her when nobody else would-"

"That's Daddy", Leo announces and Killian tilts his head to look at Emma, who seems to be half-asleep, her eyes closed and a half-smile pulling at her lips.

"Daddy isn't a pirate. He's an artist", Emma says but Leo isn't buying it.

"Daddy has a beard and one hand and a swrod", Leo argues and Emma opens her eyes to look at Killian, tilting her head to the side in contemplation.

"The sword is just decorative, but you're right about Daddy; there's something pirate-like about him", Emma says and Leo beams happily, then pokes Killian's arm and demands the rest of the story.

"The princess fell in love with the pirate and she managed to break the curse so that she could stay with the ones she loved forever", Killian says and kisses Leo's forehead, telling him he really needs to sleep now.

"I love you, Daddy", Leo murmurs and finally closes his eyes, Killian's heart squeezing in his chest as he watches Emma put Kermit the frog under the covers before she gives Leo a goodnight kiss.

"I love you, little pirate", Emma says and notices Killian's look, her eyebrows shooting up in question.

Killian doesn't speak until they are back in their bed, arms wrapped around each other and legs entwined.

"Leo is such a lucky lad."

"He is", Emma agrees and presses a kiss against Killian's nose. "Happy birthday, Captain."

"I thought it was only a story", Killian teases and grins when Emma rolls her eyes.

"The part about the curse is real", she says softly, her voice getting wistful and her gaze distant.

"Do you miss anything about your travels?" He asks her the question that's been nagging at him for a while now because even though Emma appears happy, she also seems somewhat restless.

"What's there to miss? I was either hungry or cold or both most of the time."

"You tell me", Killian prompts her gently but she just sighs and hides her face against his chest.

She's quiet for a long time but Killian knows that she's not even close to falling asleep now; her body is pressed against his but her muscles are not relaxed so he waits, keeping himself awake by tracing his fingers up and down her back.

"I keep feeling like I'm missing something", she finally says and Killian frowns in confusion because for once she's not missing anything.

"But you're here."

"I meant in the past. I feel like I'm abandoning the past you to cope on his own."

"Oh Emma, no. The past me did okay even when you weren't there."

"How do you know?"

"Because I have both sets of memories", Killian says, holding her tighter and promising her that she doesn't have to worry about him.

"Mommy? Did I sleep enough?" Leo asks from the doorway and Emma turns on the bedside lamp, then lifts up the covers in silent invitation.

"I seem to recall you saying that our kids are never going to sleep with us", Killian whispers against her ear as Emma helps Leo up on the bed; he wiggles over her and kicks Killian in the stomach before he nestles happily between them.

"You can stay here if you promise to sleep", Emma tells Leo sternly and he beams at her, then hugs his stuffed frog and closes his eyes.

This time, they all manage to sleep until the sun wakes them up.

 _October 22_ _nd_ _2015\. (Emma is 33, Killian is 35)_

Killian lies propped up on his elbow next to Emma and watches her sleep, his hand resting lightly on her baby bump; Emma is in her third trimester and they still don't know the sex of their baby, playfully arguing over the boy and girl names because this time they get to choose the old-fashioned way.

"How long have you been doing that?" Emma asks sleepily and looks at him through half-closed eyes, her fingers sliding over his and moving his hand a little to the left where a foot or a fist connects with the inside of Emma's stomach.

"What do we think? Another wee footballer?" Killian wonders and kisses Emma's hand, chuckling when she tells him that she would prefer a well-behaved little lady this time. "If there's a lassie inside who resents the idea of being well-behaved, give Daddy's hand another kick."

The kick comes swiftly and Emma's entire face glows when she smiles, her hand squeezing Killian's, their wedding bands shining in the morning sun.

"I guess we should focus on girl names from now on, huh?" She says and Killian doesn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful than her, with her tousled golden hair and big green eyes that regard him with such open adoration it makes him feel slightly unworthy.

After all, he's just a humble artist, and Emma is like a force of nature, mysterious and incredible for being one of a kind.

"You can pick", Killian tells her and scoots up to give her a kiss. "Happy birthday, love."

"Are you sure you want to give me so much power? I could pick something you'll hate."

"Never", Killian says vehemently and slides his hand lower, sneaking it under the hem of Emma's sleeping gown just as Leo pushes the door open all the way and marches into their bedroom.

"Good morning", he says in a sing-song voice and offers Emma a drawing with an eager look on his face. "I made it for your present, Mommy. Because it's your birthday."

"Thank you, pumpkin", Emma murmurs and accepts the drawing, slanting Killian a suspicious look because it doesn't look like something a three-year-old could make on his own.

"Daddy helped a bit", Leo tells her and runs around the bed so that Killian can lift him up on his lap, keeping his kicking legs away from Emma's stomach.

Killian smiles to himself because Leo had insisted his father drew the whole scene, then spent hours carefully coloring it with pencils while Emma was out with Elsa.

"He colored everything."

"And I didn't cross any lines. Not once, Mommy", Leo says proudly and Emma leans over to give his golden head a kiss, then tickles his tummy until he giggles.

"It's beautiful. I'm going to frame it and put it on a wall", Emma announces and Leo's eyes widen comically as he looks between her and Killian.

"Like Daddy's art?"

"Exactly. Everybody who visits us should see your drawing", Emma tells him and asks if he wants to help her choose a spot.

"Can I help Daddy make you breakfast first?" Leo asks uncertainly and Emma suddenly looks like she might cry, so Killian picks their son up and slings him over his shoulder.

"To the kitchen, Lieutenant Leo!"

"Aye aye, Captain", Leo yells and Emma mouths a "thank you" to her husband as she wipes at her wet cheeks, smiling through her tears and going back to admiring her birthday gift.

Killian sets Leo down on the kitchen counter and starts getting out the ingredients for pancakes, then pulls over a chair and lets Leo stand on it and mix the batter while Killian adds milk and flour, taking over when Leo gets tired.

Emma comes in just as the first pancake is ready and settles into a chair, biting her lip not to laugh when Leo insists on bringing the plate to her and spreading plum jam over the steaming pancake.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome", Leo says and watches Emma take a bite; Killian is busy flipping another pancake but he doesn't have to look to know that Emma is already feeding Leo the rest of her pancake. "Yummy."

"It is yummy."

"Because my pancakes are the best", Killian says and shoots Emma a cocky grin over his shoulder, not even pretending to be humble.

"Because I helped", Leo says and Killian turns back to the stove, feeling well and truly blessed to be here with his family.

Later, their friends are going to come for Emma's party and it's going to be fun, but Killian finds that he prefers the quiet moments when it's just the two of them and their laddie.

Emma wraps her arms around his waist from behind and stands on tiptoes to press a kiss against his neck, and he knows she feels the same as he does.

* * *

 **Review?**


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